


Precious

by waywardrose



Series: Precious Pet [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Anilingus, Bisexual Armitage Hux, Bisexual Kylo Ren, Canon Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Departing From TFA, F/M, Family Reunions, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force-Sensitive Reader, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Kylo's A Pervert, Kylux - Freeform, Lightsaber Battles, Masturbation, Medical Procedures, Mild Gore, Multi, Obsessive Behavior, Oral Sex, POV Kylo Ren, Past Abuse, Possessive Behavior, Reader-Insert, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2018-09-25 15:16:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 170,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9826094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardrose/pseuds/waywardrose
Summary: Kylo Ren has found an unexpected, yet familiar, gift in Tuanul. He knows she'll destroy his life and he's looking forward to it.





	1. Don't Fret, Precious, I'm Here

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I'm not the most well-versed fan in the Star Wars universe (despite never knowing a time when SW didn't exist). I've tried to do as much research as I can for the details. I've probably screwed up a few things. I'm always open to critique and suggestions. I will reply to all comments.
> 
> This is a companion piece to (and future continuation of) Pet. You don't necessarily have to read Pet to understand what's going on, but it wouldn't hurt.
> 
> Tags will be updated as needed (same with content rating). Fic will be updated every other Tuesday.

He knew her. He knew her before he ever saw her. Ben Solo wouldn't have recognized her, but Kylo Ren did. She looked nothing like he had imagined, but he didn't mind her looks at all. She had wild hair that was partially tamed and kept back from her soft face. And her face--truly lovely, even features, easy to look at. Her skin hadn't been ruined by the harsh climate of Jakku yet, either.

However, it was her spirit--her mind--he was pulled towards. He could feel the Force in her. He sensed her potential, but it slept in her like a dozing predator. Her soul was a sweet wind that stoked the flames of the Force within. She would be a hurricane which would blow apart his life if he took her.

And he should hate everything about her--hate her _heart_ , hate her fight, hate her fierce nature.

She mentally pushed back against him. She tried to free herself from his hold. She snapped at him like a feral beast. The Force was thrumming in her like it beat through him. She was strong with it, and it breezed through her, clearing out all that came before.

And when she screamed his name into the desert night, he knew for certain she was the one he'd seen years ago.

One of the troopers brought his attention back to the moment. He wanted to snap the trooper's neck for distracting him. Instead, he reached out and touched her soft cheek. How he wished he wasn't wearing gloves.

At the touch, she half-broke-out of his hold. It would be a feat even for a Force-user, he mentally conceded to her. She would be powerful if he could train her. He was reluctantly impressed, and the more he felt of her, the more he found himself wanting. He licked his lips, glad that he was masked, and whispered in her head that she was his. She was safe now--no more fighting for survival on this wasteland of a planet.

Still, she struggled. He knew she would fight the inevitable and maybe get herself hurt, so he made it easy for her.

'Sleep,' he mentally ordered, and she collapsed in his arms.

He cradled her to him and actually enjoyed the way her head lolled against his shoulder as he walked through the burning remains of Tuanul. It almost felt like she had fallen asleep in his arms. He joked to himself that it was an honor to be trusted by such a wild thing. He would have to lure her further out of her hidey-hole as the cycles went by.

The ride back to the _Finalizer_ was a strained one. The troopers on the shuttle tried not to look at him with his prize sheltered in his arms. The captured pilot was in the other transport, so he didn't have to concern himself with questions from Resistance scum.

He took her down to med bay to be cleaned up, tested for disease, and treated for malnutrition and dehydration. He wanted her healthy and ready for him as soon as possible. The nurses and droids assured him that they would see to her health.

He looked down at her peaceful face for a moment and knew she would fight when she woke. "Strap her down. She's a fighter."

"Wouldn't it be prudent to treat her in the detention center?" one of the nurses pointed out.

He growled, "She's not a prisoner."

"She's a captive of the First Order," Hux's crisp voice cut in.

He wanted to turn around and throttle his co-commander. He stood there, instead, and silently waited for Hux to expound on his cunning assessment. Supreme Leader had instructed him not to harm General Hux. He had to control his instincts, which was to throw the good general through the med bay doors and hopefully into a conveniently available airlock.

Hux ordered, "Secure her until she's been thoroughly examined and found well, and then send her down to the psytechs."

"She will not be reconditioned," he stated. She was _his_ , and he would decide her fate.

"Then what is to be done with her?"

He couldn't tell Hux what he wanted. He had a lot of wants to list out--most of which were not for public consumption. Especially not as a commander in the First Order. And anyway, Hux would use that against him and against her.

"She is to stay with me," he replied. "I oversee her treatment, and _I_ decide what is done to her."

"We need to find out what she knows about the Resistance. She was in that slum with Lor San Tekka and his followers. Surely, she's not as ignorant as you make her out to be."

"I refuse."

"Need I remind you what we're doing here, Ren? We're not picking up random girls throughout the galaxy for our pleasure. I don't care how pretty they are." Hux pointed down at her like she was an example of what not to do.

He could tell that Hux was a breath away from bringing up Supreme Leader. Hux was going to threaten to tattle. He knew that Supreme Leader shouldn't know about her yet. Ren needed time to feel her out.

"What do you propose?" he asked.

"If she's Resistance, we'll give her back to them with some modifications. If she's not, you can do with her what you please," Hux offered.

He was silent for a few seconds in mock consideration. There was no getting around Hux in this matter. He had eyes and ears all over the _Finalizer_ \--the little control freak.

"Fine," he agreed. She would survive the reconditioning, or she wasn't as strong as he thought she might be.

The med-droid assisting reported that she was mildly dehydrated, but showed no signs of infection. He saw Hux nod and order the report on her health to be sent to himself and Ren. Hux thought her optimal health would insure the psytechs an easier job. That seemed like a good enough excuse to make sure she was healthy.

"Have her things bagged and sent to my quarters," he told the droid before turning and walking away. The Resistance pilot needed to be dealt with, and he sensed that the interrogators were done.

He also felt Hux's disgust and titillation at his 'perverted' ways. Hux had all kinds of ideas of what he was going to do to his sweet _captive_. Hux thought she was pretty, too, he made a mental note. He would have to keep an eye on the security cams to make sure she was left in relative peace. He wouldn't stand for anyone putting their hands on her.

Hux followed him out of the med bay and matched his stride as he went to the detention center. He wanted to get the information out of the Resistance pilot as quickly as possible. With each passing cycle, Skywalker had the potential to slip through his fingers.

"I think it wise to keep the girl between us and the psytechs for now," Hux put forward. It was a peace offering.

That was, indeed, wise. He answered, "Of course."

"If she proves herself useful with the Resistance, we can report our findings to Leader Snoke."

"Yes."

"If she's not, we'll deal with her."

"I'll deal with her. She's mine."

Hux scoffed. "You picked her up during a First Order operation, and you're now using First Order resources to pursue this little endeavor. As commander of this ship, which you are using a base of operations, I will have a say in what is to be done with her."

He paused, and Hux stopped a few feet from him and turned to him. He closed the gap between himself and Hux to state, "This little endeavor, as you put it, could prove fruitful either way, and you want to squabble over my prisoner."

Hux thought hard, his jaw visibly tightening. "You deal with one prisoner, then. I'll deal with the other."

"But you need my assistance with yours," he pointed out the weakness in standard First Order interrogations as he threw his hand up in the direction of the pilot. "What I do with mine is not up for negotiation seeing as I don't need your help at all."

Hux spat out, "Get the information that we need, and I'll leave her in your hands."

He wanted to say that was how it was all going to go from the very beginning, but kept his mouth shut. He had antagonized Hux enough for one day. He needed to get what he wanted.

"Very well, General," he agreed. He wanted to ask if they should shake on it. Maybe spit in their palms before they do like a good traveler of the galaxy.

-

The interrogation had gone easily enough. Poe Dameron was hardly a challenge, and Ren was now in his quarters with a large resealable bag sitting in front of him. Her clothes were dusty, he noted, and the colors of the desert. He didn't think it suited her at all-- _too meek_.

He opened the bag and put his face to the rim. He could smell her--her hair, her skin, her sweat. The first item was a long, thin scarf. It was wide enough to cover her from the back of her neck to her forehead and long enough to loosely wrap around her neck a few times. He brought it to his nose and breathed in deep.

The shirt was forgettable, as was the belted jacket. The draw-string pants had seen better days, in his assessment. He folded the lightweight fabrics over his knee and looked into the bag to see serviceable undergarments and brown wrap boots.

He didn't bother berating himself for plucking out the panties. He could admit that he was hungry to know everything about her. The panties were plain, off-white, unstained by menstrual blood-- _like he would care_ \--and surprisingly soft. He rubbed the thin fabric between his fingers as he examined them.

These had been between her legs where she was soft and tender. He thought of her screaming his name in anger, her snarl, her jerking away from him, and brought the cotton to his face. Her scent was perfect--sweet and tangy and a little salty. He could see her on her knees in his bed with her plump ass in the air. Her back would arch, her chest resting against the mattress, her thighs spread wide. Her slit would be displayed for his viewing, and she would be flushed and wet.

And he would lick her from the hood of her clit to her asshole. Over and over. He would suck at her little clit until she squirmed and pressed back against his face. He would ease fingers inside her and make her come until she was screaming for a different reason.

He wanted to do it every day.

His dick was so hard he could feel it pulsing in his briefs. He unzipped the fly of his trousers to maneuver his erection out. The cool ambient air of the _Finalizer_ was a welcomed sensation before he spread the oozing precome over the head of his cock.

He tugged at his dick as he thought about pushing it inside her heat. She'd be so hot and slick. He wanted to grip her hips and pound her into the mattress. He'd use his weight to push her down into a prone position and fuck her until he had his momentary fill.

He wanted to taste the sweat that would gather between her shoulder blades. He wanted to kiss up her neck. He wanted to hear her sigh his name in satisfaction. He wanted to take care of her and be her only. He wanted, he wanted, _he wanted_.

He could imagine her with a red-bladed lightsaber in her hands. She could be so strong. She would cut down her enemies--and his. Together they could take the galaxy. She would be graceful and ruthless. Her eyes would shine with power and victory.

He came to the thought of her cutting down her opponents. He needed to see her steady hands as she brought the blade down. He wanted to hear her voice ringing clear as she sliced through them.

He relaxed back in the chair with her outerwear draped over a thigh, her panties wadded up on his chest, and his come splattered on the black deck under his boots. He stared up at the ceiling as his breathing calmed and heart rate slowed down to normal once more.

The ship-wide general alarm got him tucking his cock back in his trousers and sitting up. He rolled all her clothes up and shoved them in the bag from med bay. He got up and stepped over the mess he'd left on the floor. He'd deal with all that when he returned.

-

She was angry and off-balance, but not scared. The off-balance he understood. He felt a little drunk with the destruction of the New Republic. His head swam with death and frightened screams.

She was projecting her frustrations because she knew he was coming. He found that curious, but mostly he was anxious to see her. She didn't disappoint, either. She cursed him and spat out threats. She was in no position to carry them out, but he appreciated her zeal for death.

Once he got her seated and listening, he mentally examined her for himself. It had just been over a day and a half. She had gone into reconditioning three times already, and she was virtually the same. He knew that before coming down here. He had read the progress reports to find her midi-chlorian levels well above average. The reports had also stated that she had fallen asleep during the second session. He had laughed at that. Hux would be so disappointed.

And he couldn't keep his hands off her. He cradled her throat in his palm while he ran the other over the silky skin of her thigh. He'd never had someone like her at his mercy and not killed them. He had no intention of hurting her at all. She had to understand that, but she refused to feel him, refused to use her newly awakened power.

He pulled her forward with a hand on her bare ass and the Force until she pressed up against him. Her hands were on him now and gripping him like she'd never let go. He slid his hand up her flesh to her waist, and hoped Hux was watching this and taking note.

She was gorgeous and powerful and his. _All his._

Right when it was starting to get interesting, they were interrupted. He tucked her med gown down because he knew she would want that and stood. The news was good--the droid was found, and everything was coming together nicely.

The map to Skywalker would be filled in, he would kill the last Jedi in the galaxy, and train his own apprentice. There would be no more failures, traitors, or _karking scavengers_ interfering with his mission. With this last push, he'd get everything he'd been striving for.


	2. Eyes of A Fallen Angel

He was a defeated man.

His co-commander had had to rescue him. _Him_ \--one of the strongest Force-users in the galaxy. Talk about being brought low.

Brought so low by a... scavenger. Rey had seen enough of his weakness to reject him completely. She had cut him down after he'd been generous by not killing her. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice. The next time, if there was a next time, he'd focus all his rage and kill Rey.

In a final humiliation, Hux saw fit to bring his new apprentice down to view her loser of a master. Despite the circumstances, it was nice to see her without any obstructions. She stared at him for so long he thought she had lost her voice completely. That seemed unlikely to him.

Her eyes were not full of scorn or disappointment. She studied him, assessing his injuries, looking her fill at his awkward face--an awkward, ruined, and scarred face. He wanted to turn away from her, but that was weakness on top of humiliation and he would not give in.

When he reached up to touch her unblemished face, she stopped him. He realized then that he had never actually touched her skin. It wasn't a revelation, but it was good to finally know what her skin felt like.

The palms of her hands were rough from desert life. He had expected no different. What caught him off-guard was how easy it was to read her. She had been alone on Jakku. She had been lonely, but it was a different type of loneliness than his own or that of her fellow Jakku inhabitant, Rey. She wasn't the desperately-waiting scavenger. She had accepted years ago that no one was coming for her. She had what she had and no more.

He saw the Jakkuvian night sky and its vast dome of stars. The nights were too cold for her to sleep. So, she had traveled at night, which would explain why she wasn't a dried husk.

When she asked what he had done that night, he answered in the most honest way he could. He was destroying anything that held him back. He didn't care who or what it was.

He kept telling himself he didn't care until he fell asleep.

-

In the morning, Hux told him he'd ordered her reconditioning terminated. In return, he had made a demand that she not be locked up. Hux had bowed his head in acceptance since he thought she wasn't dangerous.

Hux wasn't exactly wrong.

He pulled all the sensors off his body and waited until the nurses and droids were finished fussing over him before he reached between his legs. The pain hardly dulled his ardor. The tightness in his healing flesh made him remember her strong grip right before he left for Takodana.

He cupped his balls, massaging them like he thought she would, as he played with the foreskin partially covering the head of his cock. He thought of her eyes on him as he twisted his fist around his dick. He wished he knew what her eyes looked like when she was hungry for her lover. Stars, he bet her cheeks flushed and her eyes glowed. He wanted to know her kisses, know the taste of her skin. It didn't take long with that in mind to feel his body tightening up with oncoming orgasm.

He bit his lip to keep from groaning as a pulsing, spurting climax threatened to rip his torso wound open. He pressed his elbow against the wound to keep it steady as he shuddered. He caught his breath and looked down his body to see his stomach covered in drops of white come. Luckily, none had landed on the bandages. He wiped up, tossed the tissue away, and dragged the sheets up his body.

He breathed deep and centered himself to find her awake. She was going through her morning routine. He gave her a little time before urging her to come to him. She mentally shooed him away and begrudgingly made her way to the med bay.

He had been doing plenty of thinking with his quiet time in the med bay. Han Solo was right in that he was a tool to Snoke. Once a tool was bent out of shape and couldn't be brought back in line, one threw it out or melted it down. He didn't want to think what that would mean for him.

Or for her.

He hated the thought of Snoke getting his hands on her. Snoke would ruin her, break her, bend her until she snapped. And she wasn't Snoke's--she was _his_.

There was only one solution to keep them both safe and alive. He would go to Snoke, and she would go with the Knights of Ren.

When she finally came to him, he silently told her about finishing his training. He showed her his Knights and told her what he wanted her to do. He had to rip through his emotions before seeing Snoke. He had to get to the place where he didn't think about any plans or the future. He had to not plan at all. Everything had to come quickly and be acted upon without doubt.

She sat and began to speak, to question everything, like she should, but he put a finger to her lips to quiet her. At first, it didn't register that he was touching the fullness of her bottom lip. Then he couldn't stop thinking about it. He traced the border between regular skin and the sensitive softness of her mouth.

She stilled against his touch, and he could see the irises of her eyes expand just a little and her energy mellowed into piqued attraction. How she could ever be interested in an unsightly man such as himself, he'd never know. However, he'd take any opportunity to show her he could be pleasing with the lights off.

He pulled her down to finally get his lips on hers. She proved herself to be experienced, and his head swam with unmitigated desire. He'd never been kissed like this before--with someone focused on him alone. She didn't think further than him and what felt good.

And she touched him, running her petite hand over his chest. She moved her hand up to feel the veins at the side of his throat. He wanted to ask her if she felt his life under her fingertips. She could take it since he was only half-healed.

But she didn't do anything of the sort. She had seen into him and his shameful past, and she said as much. It wasn't with condemnation, either. It was with a sort of sadness, a mourning, that he didn't fully understand. There was a vengeance underlying it, and he accepted that because he expected no less from her.

He knew that Hux had been standing on the other side of the curtain for too long when Hux finally pushed it back. Hux had been darkly hoping to see something a little more salacious than master and apprentice sitting close and talking. However, Hux let that thought go as easily as he did any other personal craving.

Snoke had talked to Hux without him, apparently. They had decided his fate like they were in charge of him. Only Snoke was above him--not Hux-- _for now_.

He accepted the decree of reporting to Snoke in a handful of cycles and stared Hux down until the good little lapdog left. He could feel Hux's frustration and deep-seated fear. In his opinion, Hux was only good for running a Star Destroyer. Hux had too much of his father in him. He used to despise Hux, but now he dismissed Hux.

She turned back to him once the curtain was closed again. He sighed and told her he'd see her tomorrow. She took that as a dismissal and trailed her hand over his chest as she stood. He wanted to pull her back down and her get out of her jumpsuit to bury his face in her tits.

Instead, he let her go and listened to her footsteps fade away. With the memory of her ardent kiss and light touch and sweet scent, he slid a hand under the sheets to wrap a hand around his hardening cock. Fuck, he couldn't get enough, and at this rate his dick was going to develop calluses. He spit in his palm and worked himself to another climax as he silently gasped her name.

-

In the morning, after another round of bacta and aggressive treatment, he was mostly healed. His new scars were tight, and he was prescribed ointment to help soften them. It would be delivered to his room when it was ready, and he told them to leave it in the refresher of his suite.

He told the med staff he'd be wanting a bacta tank free at night for his _guest_. There was a little mental balking at the request, but no one dared defy him. They made a note and said that tank two would be available in the evenings. That suited him, and he left the med bay.

He went directly to his rooms to clean up. He didn't want his apprentice to see him in wrinkled med scrubs and bacta-gelled hair. He was disappointed to note as he opened his closet that the overtunic that had been destroyed on Starkiller had been his last one. He was left with undertunics and trousers. Someone had seen fit to deposit his cleaned belt and lightsaber in the closet. That had probably been Hux's doing, he realized.

Which meant he probably needed to stop by Hux's quarters to issue a thank-you.

After dressing and putting in a clothing requisition for his apprentice, he went to Hux's door and requested entry. He could override the code, but he was trying to be civil since Hux had done him a favor. It was a full minute of standing in the passageway for him to realize no one was answering the summons. He mentally reached out into the suite to find that Hux was in there.

Hux's thoughts were an unpleasant staccato of anxiety and dread. Ren debated about leaving, but there was something about that irritating beat of Hux's mind that had him punching in his commander-override code. As the door closed behind him, Ren took in the whole scene of Hux's rooms.

Hux was standing by the unshielded port-windows, his back to the unlit room, as the ever-placid island amongst the ruin of his quarters. There was shards of glittering transparisteel covering the deck between Hux and the main door. The once-framed blueprint of Starkiller lay in shredded tatters. Its plastoid frame was in several pieces. The high-backed desk chair appeared as though he had thrown it over the toppled desk. His datapad was face down by the open and empty sideboard--forgotten and probably cracked.

He knew Hux would've broken more if he had actually possessed other items.

Hux turned, his face a rigid mask of contrived neutrality, but there was a ginger lock of his hair curled against his forehead. It was the only evidence that he'd laid such destruction in his quarters. Hux asked, "What is it?"

He almost wanted to laugh. _Yes, what is it?_ What had driven Hux to this loss of control? It was strangely becoming.

His boots crunched over a few bits of transparisteel as he took a couple of steps farther into the room. "Thank you for returning my belt and saber."

Hux waved a dismissive hand. "You're welcome."

The closer he got, the more he saw the evidence of Hux's temporary madness upon his person. Hux's forehead was shining with drying sweat, his clear blue eyes were rimmed in pink, and his usually sallow cheeks were blotchy red from exertion.

It was the first time he'd ever found Hux mildly interesting. Attractive, even.

He didn't know what he was supposed to do with that information, so he let it lie.

"Leader Snoke is quietly approving a change in the ranks," Hux offered out of nowhere.

"What does that mean for you?" It wasn't as though it meant much to him. If Hux lost this ship, Ren would be the sole commander aboard. That could make things easier in the future.

Hux stomped up to him, his feet losing traction a few times, and got in Ren's face. "It means I could face execution! _For your folly!_ You were too busy _playing_ in the woods to defend that oscillator!"

He could feel his face twist into a sneer. That wasn't true, he hadn't known that his fa-- _Han_ and the wookiee had planted explosives all over the interior of the oscillator until it was too late. He wanted to snap Hux's neck for the accusation, and the only thing holding him back was Snoke's orders. Snoke had told him repeatedly that he couldn't harm Hux.

Hux hissed, "It should be your head on the chopping block--not mine. I did what I was supposed to do!" Hux lost his balance among all the pebble-sized pieces of transparisteel under foot. He caught Hux's elbow out of instinct.

Hux fumbled out of his hold. "I _hate_ you," he spat. "And your new _pet_."

But hate wasn't all Hux was feeling. He was envious. Hux coveted a companion of his own. There was even a vague interest in taking his apprentice.

That had him moving. He fisted the crisp neckline of Hux's uniform and twisted it tight as he brought them nose to nose. "Touch her, and I'll make you pray for Supreme Leader's mercy."

"If I tell him about her, you'll beg for mine."

He had to bluff his way out of this, and Hux probably knew it. "Go on, then. Tell him about her. Attach yourself like a little parasite, and that's all you'll ever be." He tightened his hold on Hux's collar and knew it was getting extremely uncomfortable.

Hux's lip curled in contempt as his face got redder. His eyes were twin blue flames.

"You think he won't throw you away, Hux?" he pointed out. "You're just a pawn like everyone else."

"And you're no different," Hux wheezed out.

"I know, which is why I'm keeping her at my side."

Hux tried to scoff, but it came out more like a choked snort. He threw Hux to the deck and stared down at him. There was a part of him that wished to unzip his trousers and fuck Hux's mouth into silence--just gag Hux with his cock until he was gasping for air and _docile_.

That was highly unlikely no matter the circumstances, he wryly thought.

"We could win this if you don't kriff it up," he stated.

"I am not the loose cannon on board, _Ren_."

He crouched down between Hux's splayed legs. "Maybe that's the problem."

Hux barked out a derisive laugh. "Be like _you?_ That's rich. I'm a general of the First Order. I can't just go around in rags and _tear my own karking ship apart!"_

He straightened up. It was pointless to talk to Hux when he had gotten himself worked up. Before Hux could say more, he broke in, "Maybe if you starting acting like the real leader of the First Order, you wouldn't be so fucking scared."

"That's sedition!" Hux pointed up at him with all righteousness. "And fuck you!"

He turned and made his way through the mess of Hux's quarters. As he got to the main door, he heard Hux getting to his feet. The crackle of transparisteel under his boots signaled him rising up.

"Get back here, we're not finished!" Hux roared.

He snarled as he turned around and with the Force pushed Hux back until he hit his untidy desk. Hux's feet left two paths through the shards of transparisteel. Hux braced himself against the desk, his chest heaving with shallow breath and pent-up emotion.

"This discussion is _over_. Save yourself because I wasn't the only one on Starkiller. I wasn't even the only _commander_." He hit the button for the door release, and it slid open. "Trample the petty insects who wish to devour you yourself, I'm sick of listening to you whine."

He stepped out into the passageway, and the door closed behind him. He could feel Hux wanting to scream and rage and hit something until it was ruined. He decided it wouldn't be him and left the command barracks to head down to the detention center.

She was waiting in her unlocked cell and walked with him to his quarters. He felt exposed and self-conscious without his helmet, but he had to accept this was the new normal. The mask was gone, and he'd have to make his scarred face into a new mask.

He ordered breakfast once in his rooms and then presented the first change of suitable training clothes to her. She began undressing right there, and he choked back the hungry sound that wanted to burst from his throat. He thought he'd never wanted to be an undershirt more than now as he stared at the compression top under her detention uniform.

She looked up, gave him a disapproving look, and approached. She tried to take her clothes and change in privacy, but he wouldn't let her get away.

"You're a dweezer," she stated and attempted another go at her new clothes.

He pulled her closer and tried to kiss her plump lips, but she easily dodged. He could work with that, he decided, and kissed her neck. She tasted clean and soft and fresh. He felt her chest heave against his as he found a sensitive spot under her jaw.

He confessed to thinking about her, and he hoped his meaning was clear. He had been wanting her since picking her up. She wasn't too impressed, but he could understand why. He would bet that she had left a lot of broken hearts on Jakku.

Fuck, she was pretty.

She ran her hand through his hair, and he took that as encouragement. He kissed his way down her throat to her chest. He nudged the jumpsuit out of the way with his chin and mouthed at the tops of her breasts. Her skin was like the finest silk.

He was about to pull her top down to fully expose her breasts when the delivery droid interrupted. He stomped down the urge to crush the thing and let his apprentice go.

They ate in silence in front of the port-windows. He kept monitoring her to find if she liked what he had ordered. She seemed pleased by his choices, and he mentally nodded to himself. He could win her over and be a decent teacher and shelter her from Snoke.

He was betting his life on it.


	3. I Won't Let You Be Denied

She wasn't particularly good. Her form was shaky at best. She carried the weight of the practice sword completely with her back instead of using her abs. This made her hunch and consequently her attacks weak. She had no stamina. She kept twisting her neck to relieve the tension from her poor form, or putting the sword down to alleviate the burn in her arms and shoulders.

That wasn't even mentioning her struggle to get through a decent warm-up with him.

However, he mentally conceded, it _was_ her first day. She wasn't complaining or asking for breaks, either. He recalled being a padawan with Skywalker and how he had simply endured some of the training. Being Snoke's apprentice was just as difficult, but a different flavor. With Skywalker it was all about feeling the Force and trusting one's instincts. With Snoke it was the annihilation of emotion and coolly cutting through that which was not needed.

He had struggled with Skywalker, and he was struggling under Snoke now.

He didn't want to be like either of them with her. However, he found himself falling back into Jedi training and discussing the Jedi Trials. She seemed to know her way around them, and he had to remind himself that Lor San Tekka had probably polluted her with fantasies of the Jedi.

What he found in her were genuine fears of not surviving his training. That gave him pause. He wouldn't permanently damage her, nor would he let the Knights do so. She was as safe as he could make her. She would soon realize that fact, or he wasn't half as good as he thought he might be.

The second day was much like the first. He introduced her to the concept of opening up to the Force, of reaching out into it. She could feel it, he knew that. It could be discombobulating in the beginning, but she seemed centered, if a little frustrated.

It seemed as though she couldn't concentrate enough to do anything useful. He offered himself up for her to focus on. As soon as he told her to feel his heartbeat, she invisibly reached inside him. It was a kind of intimate penetration he had never thought possible.

Her fingers were cool and gentle against his chest, just as they were inside his spirit. He felt enveloped in a rushing, wild, sweet wind. It swirled around him, gliding up his back and caressing his scarred cheek. He knew the touch immediately--it wasn't just a wind, it was _her_.

It was all so good, and he felt as if he were floating in a cloud. The room around him dissolved into gray and soft and warm. It was wonderful and so peaceful, and he never wanted to leave.

But he did when his face smacked against her crossed legs.

He knew something wrong had occurred as he sat up. He was pulled to her as though there was a string attaching his bellybutton to hers. He tried to hide his anxiety because nothing like this was supposed to happen. He was supposed to teach her the ways of the Force, not barrel through a lesson as if he were a fumbling idiot.

The rest of the day went by in a blur of physical diversion. They worked on perfecting her form and proper grip and how to keep from tripping over her own feet. She didn't seem to notice that he kept touching her. He himself had only noticed after the fifth time he needlessly adjusted her elbow.

He dared not point out either of their attentions to the Force. It would only throw into sharp relief his incompetence as an instructor because he had no idea what had happened between them. No one--master, teacher, fellow padawan--had ever mentioned anything like what had happened.

Letting her go into the bacta tank that night had been a test of his patience. He felt frayed and messy and pulled in every direction. She was now sitting in her bed with the blanket pulled over her legs and looking adorably sleepy. The farther he got from her, the worse he felt. Nothing was right, and something was definitely _wrong_.

He sat on his own bed and wanted to tear his fucking hair out. He confessed to not liking her so far away, and she replied that neither mattress was big enough for the both of them. He didn't care about the bed. What he cared about was her all the way over there. It might've been less than ten feet, but it felt like ten klicks.

The only thing he could do was throw his bed next to hers and hope that would ease the confined yet vulnerable tension going through him. She sat there and let him do what he needed. She seemed to relax as he settled near.

They laid there in the dark for a quiet minute. He willed his breathing to slow and sleep to take him now that she was next to him.

She whispered, "How's your blaster wound?"

He thought for a second and replied that it was itchy and foreign. He felt her reach out for him and he caught her hand. The back of her hand was soft and smooth, and he brought it up to his lips. It soothed something jagged in him, and he rolled to face her. In moments, he was asleep.

By the third day, her form had significantly improved. She was using her frustration and anger and fear in directed attacks. She was reading him and really fighting him. She would need to let go of any doubts she had as she continued, because he'd been communicating with Yideth during the short breaks they took.

Yideth was his successor, and he didn't trust anyone more. Snoke had handpicked her out of his cadets, given her enough training, or rounded out what she already knew, and sent her directly to him. He didn't know what Snoke's intentions had been, but Yideth hadn't held any loyalty nor love for Snoke. Somehow, over the years and with various missions, they had come to an understanding.

Yideth was reluctant to help now, seeing as she had her own ops to run, but she was willing to negotiate. She could get all the parts for a lightsaber, save the kyber, if he provided the funds. She could house his apprentice if he got her enough rations and water. She would need fuel to skip around the galaxy. After the third message with another demand, he replied that she should make a list, supply a total, and report to the _Finalizer_ ASAP.

Ren could feel Yideth's feline smirk from across the galaxy.

The final push for the day was looming ahead. He faced off with his apprentice one last time and cornered her. Her temper flared to life, and she came at him with some encouragement. He had accumulated a few nasty bruises over the day--just like she had--and would have to take a dip in the bacta tonight to be in top form for tomorrow.

He got her in the ribs again since she'd left herself open. Her eyes went wide with pain, but she kept fighting. He finished the fight and backed off. She sagged against the wall, and her head hung down.

He didn't like fighting her at this stage because she was so green. It felt like she was at a perpetual disadvantage, and she was. However, she wasn't giving up, and that's all that mattered to him.

He approached and urged her to look up at him by tilting her head up. She read him without even trying, it seemed, and dismissed his support. He let out a sigh and studied her glowing face. Her cheeks were flushed, as were her full lips, her hair was messy, and the yoke of her tank was dark with sweat. Maybe that shouldn't be so alluring, but it was to him.

He bent and pressed his lips to hers. It was supposed to be a brief kiss, but it ended up going on and on. The next thing he knew, her legs were around his waist, and he had both hands on her delicious ass and was grinding his erection against the wet heat between her legs.

"Yeah," he gasped. "So good."

She moved with him as her hands slid over his shoulders. Her breasts were heaving against his chest, and he pressed her tighter against the wall. She scratched at his back and fisted the straps of his shirt as his pace sped up. Her breath was getting short, and she was squirming in his hold.

He knew those silent signs and didn't quit. He shoved his face against her damp neck and tried not think about tearing her leggings open and pushing his cock inside her lest he lose it completely. He so wanted to feel her come around his dick.

She gave a strained whimper and suddenly arched against him. She wordlessly cried out, and he swore he could feel her pussy throb against him. She was soaking through her panties and covered in bruises from practice, and he'd never seen anyone so sexy.

He whispered curses as his body locked up and he came in wave after fevered wave. His cock gushed in his briefs, making them stick to his sensitive skin. As he caught his breath, he inched them down to the deck. She kept her thighs around his waist, and he tightly hugged her as he settled.

She didn't seem to mind the sweat, if the fingers smoothing his soggy hair back were any indication. He dazedly told her he wished all fights could end like this, but he didn't mean any fight. He just meant with her. She was smiling as if she knew, and he kissed her shoulder.

After they'd changed their respective underwear and pants, they had dinner. It was a quiet affair, much like every meal they had shared thus far. He didn't want to ruin the peace by asking her questions about previous partners, though he was curious. He could demand it, but demanding things hadn't gone well for him lately. He told himself that with time he'd know all about her.

Before they left for the med bay, he went to use the refresher and accidentally caught sight of his shoulders. They were covered in pink lines from her nails. After he washed his hands, he turned in the mirror and moved aside one wide band of his shirt to get a better view. He touched the welts that he could reach and grinned to himself.

She hadn't yet noticed what she'd done, but he wouldn't point it out. It was a shame he had to go into a bacta tank as well tonight. He wanted to wear the scratches as a badge of honor. He'd earned them, and he wanted them seen.

As they walked down to medical, they discussed technique, different forms in sword-fighting, and katas. He felt like he was lecturing, but she seemed interested enough since she kept asking questions. Before going through the med bay's doors, he asked if he had been too rough with her.

At first, she hadn't caught his meaning, but her eyes widened with understanding. "Oh! No, you were-- It was good." She blushed a little at that. "You didn't hurt me."

They didn't talk much after that since they were both being prepped for bacta treatment. The time in the tank and clean-up afterwards went by slowly. He didn't feel the distance as keenly as he had last night, but it was there.

They didn't talk much on the way back to his quarters, either. There seemed no reason when a glance told him so much. They did their nightly dynamic and static stretches with him leading in a hushed voice. They were silent for their final meditation. And then it was time for bed.

He woke several hours into the sleep cycle. He could tell she had settled half on her side and half on her stomach with her top knee kicked out in front of her. He rolled to her, scooted a little closer, and placed a hand on her back to feel her breathe.

He was tempted to run his palm down her spine to her ass and let his fingers trail between her legs. He could move her underwear aside and tease and stroke her until she wiggled against his fingers. He'd keep doing it until she was wet and moaned for more.

He could imagine wrapping her in his arms and holding her in place as he pushed his cock inside her. Would she fight his hold or go still? He didn't know, but maybe if he made her desperate enough, she would brace herself and lean into it. Maybe she would reach back and pull him tight against her.

He could feel that his sleep-pants were tented from his straining erection. _Fuck._ He couldn't go back to sleep like this because he'd wake up to wet sheets and awkward explanations. He rolled onto his back and eased the covers off himself, taking care not to expose her to the cooler air outside of the blankets.

Once he was in the refresher, he got the lights up to fifteen percent, kicked off his pants, and flipped back the toilet seat. He lubed up his hand with lotion and braced himself against the wall as he stroked his dick. He could almost picture her bent over in front of him. Her ass would jiggle with each thrust.

He wanted her so badly, but he wouldn't force her. _Or force her more._ He knew he was already taking advantage. It was a heady feeling having power over her, knowing that she was his and couldn't escape.

He began to move his hips counter to his hand, making each stroke feel like more. He'd fuck her like the terrible beast he was. He wanted to overwhelm her with touch and kiss until she cracked open with a pleasure so keen it almost hurt.

His knees quaked as he came, and he clung to the refresher wall to steady himself as he quietly gasped. He knew he was so fucked when it came to facing Snoke in a few cycles. How could he quell this yearning before seeing his master? He had to purge himself of this desire--it was the only solution.

But how, when she was constantly _there_ and so tempting?

He wiped up, flushed the toilet, and washed his hands. He didn't know the answer, of course. If he did, he wouldn't be jerking off in the 'fresher in the middle of the sleep cycle. He massaged some more ointment into his facial scar, and it felt better for it. He got his sleep-pants back on before turning off the lights and heading back to bed.

He didn't touch her on the fourth day. It felt like a minor victory.

Then came the fifth day's morning when he woke up to a warm hand sliding down his side and soft breasts pressing against his back. Her thighs were snug against his ass. She kissed his back, right between his shoulder blades. It felt comforting and intimate in the dark with her tucked against him and his upper arm stretched back to touch her leg.

She easily rolled him onto his back, and he let her. At first he thought she wanted to curl up on top of him when she straddled his legs, but she didn't bend to rest her cheek on his chest. Instead, she tugged his sleep-pants down to his thighs and sat back.

His gut clenched and he began to ask what she was doing, but she quieted him with a soft sound and ran her hands over his waist. Her touch went down until she cradled his cock in her hands. She teased the foreskin and glans until he was so hard and throbbing. She paused for a second, and then one of her hands came back wet. His eyes rolled back in his head at how good that felt, and he couldn't stop the roll of his hips.

She fondled his balls, and he reached for her hands because he was already on the edge, but she whispered for him to stop. She tenderly threatened to restrain him, and his groin tightened as another fat drop of precome oozed from his dick. He propped himself on his elbows to get a little closer to her. He could almost smell her hair and warm skin.

She worked his cock and encouraged him to come. She said she wanted him to make a mess of himself. His arms were shaking under him, and he couldn't seem to pull in enough air. Every upstroke had him rocking until he couldn't hold back climax any longer. He thrust his cock one last time into the tight tunnel of her hands and fell back as orgasm robbed him of strength. He felt the thick spurts of hot come hitting his stomach and chest. She soothed him through it and then eased her touch as he got more sensitive.

She trailed her fingers through the globs of come striping his torso. He heard a wet sound and realized she was tasting him. He crossed his forearms over his face as a new wave of arousal hit him. He couldn't get it up again so quickly, but fuck, did he want to.

She ordered the lights on to ten percent, and he slid his arms away from his face to see her. She had a hand down her underwear, and it was obvious what she was doing. He wanted to tug her up his body to straddle his head and force her to climax again and again until his face was drenched in her come and sweat. He silently warred with himself to do just that until she propped herself up with a hand on his chest.

He was caught in indecision as her hips began to flex. He found he enjoyed watching her and letting her set the pace. He could let her take her pleasure with him. It was easy to relax and simply watch her.

He wanted to burn the image of her reaching her peak onto his eyelids. He prayed that he'd remember in the coming days what her little whimper sounded like as she came, how her head relaxed back, and the exquisite color of her blushing cheeks.

She flopped down on top of him, careless of the mess between them. He maneuvered her wet fingers to his mouth and sucked the tangy-sweet moisture from them. She tasted perfect.

He hooked his hands under her ass and dragged her up to kiss her. It was lame to need more, but he couldn't stop. She was leaving tomorrow, and he wanted anything she'd give him.

The rest of the day went by in a blur of training and kisses. It seemed like a good reward system because she pushed herself further and seemed pleased when he would nod and bend down to give her a brief peck for doing well. He was in a low state of arousal the whole time, but it felt good.

A message came from Yideth before dinner stating that she'd report in before 1700 the next cycle. He acknowledged the message and told his apprentice. She wasn't pleased to be leaving so soon, but she nodded in acceptance.

He thought that they would finally fuck that night. He had been burning for it. He thought that he had shown her that he was on her side, that he was trustworthy. However, before he could broach the topic, she had fallen asleep. He probably should have rushed through his nightly routine in the refresher. Though how good of a time would it have been if she was fighting off sleep?

He sighed to himself and curled around her before ordering the lights to zero. She had pushed herself, he silently berated. If he had wanted it so bad, he should've stopped training earlier.

Her survival was way more important than getting his dick wet, though. He wanted to ignore that rationale, but he was getting too old to excuse away logic. He had done just that and look what it had gotten him: a scarred face, a bruised ego, and a co-commander who was looking at execution.

Knowing Snoke, he'd make him kill Hux, too.

After the half-day of training on the sixth day, he packed up a duffle with all her things and then some. As he was packing, he got an automatic notice that Yideth had docked her ship in one of the smaller hangars. When his apprentice came back from the med bay, she didn't ask if it was time. The way he was dressed--in his own uniform, of a sort--said enough. He watched her dress in the generic Order officer's uniform he had laid out for her. The uniform was deceptively warm, as were the boots and coat. She'd be protected from the harsh elements as much as he could ensure.

He wished he had kind words, warm words, reassuring words, but everything died on his tongue to taste of bitter carbon and musty vinegar. He stayed quiet on the way to the hangar and noted that she did, too. Apparently, they both had been rendered speechless for one reason or another.

Yideth came out to greet them, and he introduced them to each other. Yideth wasn't typically forthcoming with her thoughts--even less so with strangers--so he wasn't offended by her lack of conversation. She took the duffle from him after acknowledging his apprentice and boarded her ship once more to give them relative privacy.

He turned to his apprentice and studied her one last time. She looked good in black. It was a stark backdrop for her coloring. He struggled for something to say as he looked deep into her eyes.

"I'll come to you as soon as I'm able," were the words he finally settled on.

She barely nodded and suddenly pulled him down for a kiss. He rested his hands just at the swell of her hips and kissed her back until it felt like too much. If he didn't let her go now, he never would.

"Go," he murmured. She needed to leave before he did something rash.

She sucked in a deep breath and gave a sharp nod before wrenching herself free. He balled his hands at his sides as he watched her walk onto Yideth's ship. The ramp raised up into the ship and stole her from his sight. He backed away as the ship hovered over the deck to face the unshielded bay portal.

He was almost to the back of the hangar when the ship glided out of the _Finalizer_. The connection between them strained, and he gritted his teeth with a tension which bordered on pain and pulled at every tattered piece and damaged scrap that made him human and alive. He stood there and took it until the Yideth's ship disappeared with the blue flash of its jump to lightspeed.

A tech approached him with a question, and he snarled. "Not now!" He pushed the tech away with the Force and rushed to his quarters. Anyone who was unfortunate to share the passageways with him pushed themselves against the nearest wall and averted their gaze. It was a wise choice that did nothing to mitigate his fury.

He made it back to his room and the first thing he did was ignite his lightsaber. He looked around for something to destroy, but every inch of the room reminded him of her. He couldn't ruin what little was left of her. He extinguished the blade and threw the saber into the training room.

He howled out a wretched _fuck!_ and collapsed to his knees. His temples throbbed with keeping himself in check. He bent forward and pressed his forehead against the cool deck. He cursed everything that had led to her having to leave. He wanted to crush anyone who stood in the way of getting back to her. He regretted it all. He'd take it all back if he could be released from this hell.

He lost his balance and fell onto his side. His hair blinded him, but he didn't bother to move it. There was nothing to see.

He faded in and out for an indeterminable amount of time. Hunger came and went--as did thirst. He finally stripped off his clothes, leaving him in his underwear. He needed to purge himself of this yearning or Snoke would carve it out of him.

He made his way into his training room and stretched out on the cold, hard floor. He closed his eyes and regulated his breathing until it felt like he was going to fall through the floor under him. Lassitude took hold, and nothing mattered. There was barely a thing called Kylo Ren. It was all only the Force.

Someone kicked his bare foot, and he collected himself back into the ego container which was the identity known as Kylo Ren. His foot was nudged again.

"Do not touch me again, General," he whispered without bothering to open his eyes.

Hux scoffed. "You've been AWOL for two cycles. Where's your pet?"

"You know she's not on board." He sighed at the tightness starting up his spine once more.

"I didn't ask if she was on board. I asked where she is."

"Not here."

" _Not here?_ That's not an answer."

"That's the only one I have for you."

Hux was silent for a moment before stating, "Snoke has sent his coordinates for you. You are to report to him in thirty-six standard hours."

"Understood."

It was a dismissal, but Hux stood there for a minute. Ren could feel eyes on himself, but he didn't much care what Hux thought or what he was looking at. He started to drift once more as Hux's footsteps echoed in his empty rooms.


	4. Quietly Pour Out Like Light; Like Light, Like Answering the Sun

"You seem to have misplaced your helmet, Kylo Ren," Snoke greeted him. "And gained a few new scars."

Snoke visually examined him as though he could see the other ones beside the fresh scar going up his face. He had nothing to say to Snoke's assessment, so he bowed his head and kept it lowered. The Upsilon-class shuttle went through its last automatic power-down cycle behind them in the grassy clearing, and a fresh wave of steam flowed around their calves.

For all of Snoke's gnarled body, he was still taller than Ren. He felt like a half-grown kid again standing in front of his master. He struggled not to apologize for his faults, failures, and very existence.

"I take it you are healed," Snoke inquired.

"Yes, Master."

"Follow me, then."

Snoke turned from him and shuffled his way towards an opened stone doorway leading into a partially buried structure just beyond the clearing. The irregular, angular walls of the structure were covered in moss and ferns. The surrounding forest had seemed to grow around it, hiding it from the curious.

The air was moist, and the sky above was a mottled gray that threatened rain. Everything was still, even the humid forest itself. He knew that native creatures were out amongst the trees, but they were unmoving as if a great predator was in their midst. He hazarded a guess that the Force had changed just recently, and all in the vicinity could feel it.

He could feel it, too.

He slowly trailed after Snoke as his master disappeared in the shadowy interior of the building. He saw that there were big chunks of freshly broken rock on either side of the doorway. He wanted to ask why Snoke had broken the seal on the door instead of simply moving the rock to the side. He couldn't feel any magic from the rock, but that didn't mean it hadn't been protected.

"Once we are through here, the planet can claim this place for itself," Snoke said from the darkness.

As he stepped inside, the air instantly cooled around him. He could feel it like an icy gossamer mist. It settled on him like a veil. He couldn't see Snoke in the inky interior, but he could hear his scraping steps. He followed the sound further into the building and hoped that he wouldn't misstep. He quickly squashed the impulse to ignite his lightsaber, for Snoke hadn't bothered with his. He had to follow his master's lead here. Any sign of distrust or frailty would be punished, and he was not weak. He couldn't be. He wouldn't allow himself to be.

Through the claustrophobic blackness, a faint green illumination emanated from a key-shaped doorway. As he got to the doorway, he saw stairs curving down into the depths of the structure. The light was bouncing up from below, and he could see the tottering of Snoke's shadow zigzagging over the steps. He made his way down until he was directly behind Snoke, and together they stepped down to the lowest level.

The light came from a channel of glowing liquid green flowing around the perimeter of the low-ceiling chamber. They both stepped over the narrow channel crossing in front of the chamber opening, and the liquid pulsed and shimmered at their presence. Inside the barrier, he could feel the low hum of dark energy.

In the middle of the chamber was an obelisk made of the same gray stone as the rest of the room. There were inscriptions in Sith, but he only knew the language by sight and couldn't read what was carved into the stone. He didn't ask Snoke for a translation. He knew that all would be revealed in time--that was always the way with Snoke.

Snoke walked up the obelisk and placed a twisted hand on its inscription. "There is something inside this obelisk that you need."

"For my training?" he asked.

"And beyond." Snoke stepped back from the column of stone. "You must find it within and bring it to you."

He made a fast decision and offered, "And we don't care about this place." He didn't want to use the Force here because when he did, he had to open himself up. He feared doing so could allow Snoke to see everything.

"No, this temple has been drained and holds no more mysteries outside of this."

He didn't necessarily agree with Snoke's assessment. He knew a change had taken place once the temple was opened. It seemed the whole surrounding forest knew it, too. That meant something, but he just wasn't sure what.

He turned to the obelisk and put a hand up to direct his energy. The thing--whatever it was--was not silent and cold. It burned like a funeral pyre and called for someone brave enough to bear it. And from just feeling it, he knew where it was.

The obelisk had a rectangular base with more Sith carvings. He ran his hands between the tapering top and the straight base. There were no seams. He snuck a glance at Snoke to find him observing.

He took a step back and unhooked his lightsaber. Through his physical power alone, he'd get what Snoke wanted him to. He sliced the obelisk horizontally, and the top fell over and cracked in a cloud of dust. He came up to the base to see it solid--just like the top. Was whatever he had to get completely encased?

"Why didn't you use the Force?" Snoke inquired.

"Do you want me to use the Force?" he returned. That was bordering on insolent, he knew.

"Are you feeling on edge?"

He hooked his lightsaber back on his belt to buy himself a little time and turned to Snoke. "I am... _concerned_." He thought of the First Order, of what Hux had said about restructuring, of Hux being executed.

"You need not concern yourself with General Hux, Kylo."

"Of course not. I just-- I have learned to work with him. He is competent."

Snoke extrapolated, "You feel you owe him a life debt."

"No," he contradicted and bowed his head. "I owe _you_ my life, but you entrusted General Hux with my retrieval."

"You think that makes up for billions of credits and a decade of planning and building being razed in a matter of hours?"

"No, Master, of course not. He would've stayed to the end--and might've taken the Resistance down with Starkiller--if it weren't for me."

"So he has dedication and loyalty," Snoke dismissed. "Many of the commanders in the First Order have the same integrity."

"But none as clever or resourceful."

Snoke hummed in thought.

He went on: "General Hux is an asset."

"You've played General Hux's advocate well enough for today. Now destroy the obelisk."

"Yes, Master," he acquiesced and returned to the base of stone. Snoke obviously wanted him to use the Force to acquire whatever was buried in the rock. Lopping off the top of the obelisk had been brutish and heavy-handed. He could feel Snoke's disapproval from across the chamber. To satisfy Snoke, he'd have to prove a deft hand at handling the Force.

He knelt and put his gloved hands on the nearest corners of the base. The object wasn't stone, that much he sensed, so he focused only on the rock. He saw in his mind's eye the stone separating and falling away in small pieces and coarse gray sand. He directed the Force to slither its way into the stone like water and break down the rock from the inside out.

Within seconds, the stone became weak under his hands. He compressed the crumbling rock until it fell away, and the object buried inside revealed itself. He lifted the metal out of its cocoon and dusted it off.

It was a mask. The bronze-colored metal was warm to the touch and buffed to a dull sheen with small hammered divots giving the mask some texture. There were large slanted almond-shaped eye holes with black glass and a line of black rivets for a mouth. He turned the mask over to see the interior was a matte black that seemed to suck up the feeble light in the chamber. He ran his fingers over the interior and his breath caught in his throat at the weight of death upon it.

It was a powerful dark object. He didn't know why Snoke was giving it to him. Was this a replacement for the helmet he'd lost on Starkiller?

He straightened up and turned to Snoke, offering the mask to him for examination. Snoke held the mask in his wizened hands and tilted it towards the glowing channel of liquid.

"A fine example of Sith artistry. It will serve you well," Snoke assessed and handed back the mask before heading for the stairs again.

Apparently, that was all of an explanation he was going to get. He tucked the mask under his arm and followed Snoke out of the temple.

Once at the shuttle, Snoke stated that they would be headed to Korriban next. Ren held his tongue as they walked up the ramp and into the cockpit. Snoke knew the coordinates without having to look them up in the nav computer. Snoke told him that the ship would head directly for their destination when the autopilot was engaged. He accepted the word of his master and went through the proper take-off procedures as Snoke settled in the main hold.

He came out of the cockpit after he had confirmed the coordinates and jumped to lightspeed. It would take a few hours to reach Korriban, and Snoke advised him to rest in the meantime. However, he knew he couldn't fall asleep because his defenses would be down. He might even dream about things he shouldn't even think about.

He sat across the hold from Snoke, rested his head back against the bulkhead, and closed his eyes. He concentrated on his breathing until he knew Snoke's attention wasn't on him any longer. He listened to Snoke sit in on a few briefings. Hux was only present for one of them.

Hux hadn't been wrong when he said that Snoke was conferring with other commanders about restructuring. He tried to envision the First Order without Hux and found it difficult. He associated the man with the organization and vice versa. However, he'd said his piece about Hux--whether it was true or not was irrelevant. He wouldn't push Snoke because in the end, it wasn't his concern. Hux would either save or condemn himself.

Korriban could not come quick enough, though. When the autopilot gave the proximity alert for their destination, he rushed to the cockpit to see the barren, rust-colored hellscape that was Korriban. He had to make a few adjustments to the approach as the shuttle zoomed down a straight ravine towards a pyramid nestled at the end.

On either side of the valley were hooded figures carved into the rock face. All of them had been softened with time and the elements of the desert planet. Between the figures were flat planes of red stone which had banners of the Sith language carved into them. He had to assume they were Sith maxims.

As the shuttle approached the pyramid, he could see two stone giants supporting the structure. There seemed to be a wide incline leading up into the underbelly of the pyramid. There was some sort of now-roofless complex in front of the pyramid. It was all abandoned and partially obscured by sand.

He put the shuttle down near one of the stone giants and shut the ship down. Snoke was already standing and waiting on him as he came back into the hold. Before he could make his way down the open ramp, Snoke stopped him and stated he would need his new mask for this leg of the journey.

In his hands, the mask sang. It seemed to resonate with the planet. As he followed Snoke out of the shuttle, he was struck by the absence of life. There was death, he sensed, but there was also a hollowness in the ravine. The background noise had been silenced here, and he was left in the hush.

Snoke turned to the pyramid and made his way over to the incline. Ren closed the ramp to the shuttle--just to keep the sand at bay--and followed him. As Snoke reached the midway point of the shadowed incline, the pyramid came to life. Bars of golden lights set into the pyramid flickered on and illuminated the craggy details. The interior of the structure was lit as well and glowed softly from the top of the incline.

The mask was practically vibrating his hand, and it felt like he needed to relieve the pressure in his ears. Snoke seemed unmoved as he led the way. Ren tried to toss away his anxiety and questions. He knew from experience Snoke would humor neither.

The inside of the grand hall of the pyramid was dusty and sandy--as was to be expected. On either side of the main entrance were two gargantuan black statues of hooded figures. There were echoes of the old Sith empire in the starkness of the dark decoration. There were duel staircases leading up to a second level and tall passageways on the ground floor leading farther into the pyramid. In the center of the hall was a carved obelisk--in a different style than the one he'd destroyed earlier--which soared high above.

Snoke went left to a passageway in the far corner without looking to see if he was following. It took a few seconds to realize he needed to follow. The atmosphere of the pyramid was ominous and oppressive and yet hypnotizing in its ravenous silence. He didn't know what there could be to learn in such an abandoned place.

"I'm beginning to see a pattern here," he commented as he caught up with Snoke.

Snoke hummed in agreement. "The Sith had much knowledge about the Force. It is a shame they never learned to fully utilize it."

"But neither have the Jedi."

"Indeed." Snoke led them to a set of stairs leading down and slowly began to slog his way down. "Which is where you could fit in, Kylo Ren." _If you don't fail._

"With your continued instruction, I will succeed."

"We shall see about that," Snoke returned.

He had nothing to reply to that, so he tried not to seethe from Snoke's implied doubt. He tried not to think about the future where he found solid ground upon which to build. The future was too dangerous to contemplate in the presence of his master.

The lower level of the pyramid was low-ceilinged and lit by trios of vertical lights at steady intervals. They passed closed doors and connecting passageways until they turned a corner to a dead-end corridor. The corridor had dark niches containing prism-shaped sarcophagi.

He became very aware of the mask in his left hand.

"These are what the Sith called oubliettes--derived from _oublier_ , 'to forget,' in the ancient tongue." Snoke turned to him. "It's ironic since they can be used for deep meditation."

He stared at the nearest one. "I am to meditate?"

Snoke nodded. "They harness the Force. You can stay in there for as long as you need and not wither away." He held out a gnarled hand. "You will not need your lightsaber."

"And the mask?"

"You _will_ need that."

He couldn't refuse at this stage, so he unhooked his saber and handed it over. Snoke pocketed it and told him to pick an oubliette. He looked down the line of niches and found they all felt the same to him--empty and labyrinthine yet _awake_. He walked over to the nearest one and touched the face of it. The oubliette hissed open to reveal a smooth black interior.

He lay down in the oubliette and let the mask rest on his chest. Snoke informed him then that he would be searching through the Force for the scavenger, Skywalker, and a Sith curiosity known as the Helm of Ieldis. Snoke continued on to say that with the oubliette, he'd be able to take his time and _contemplate_ his recent failures.

"Put on the mask," Snoke finished. "Do not take it off until you have fulfilled your mission."

He realized then that the oubliette, the mask, the quest were punishment and lesson all in one. He took a deep breath and looked up at the split between black oubliette and dark academy walls. Snoke didn't bother reiterating his orders. He stood there and stared down at him with hard eyes.

He picked up the mask and placed it on his face. The rush of hundreds of screaming voices took his breath. They seemed to propel him out and away, distancing him from his immured circumstances. He languished in the darkness, the wordless screams of the suffering hoard suspended him. He forgot his goals. He forgot how he had gotten into this nothingness. He forgot he wasn't supposed to join the dead.

And he surrendered.

The jumbled mass of visions and futures and truths and possibilities overwhelmed him. He didn't know which was which, but he had to play them out. A lightsaber--not his own--was presented to him and he was sitting in his training room on the _Finalizer_ and his apprentice was standing above him. _You are not what you think._ But then she was in his arms. And Hux was there with the ginger fuzz of his hair growing back in.

He was alone.

There was water, an ocean, lapping at the red running lights of Yideth's freighter, and he could hear Jeckhum's laughter covering up his crushing sadness. There was velvet and tears, and he had to give her something. _Truly release that which does not matter._ He had to cover her and yet reveal her. The jungle--forest--no, jungle, there was someone on the ground waiting to kill them. The holocron wouldn't open for him. "Things change." _Things **are** changing. You must change with them._

"Don't be alarmed," he whispered. The present came flooding back. He wasn't on Korriban and neither was Snoke. He knew Snoke was resting, and that it was safe to talk.

He was with his apprentice--or rather currently Yideth's.

She asked what he was doing there, and he couldn't help but tease her a little. He felt so buoyant and yet the screams were at his back. He had to concentrate to reply.

"Are you dead?" she asked.

That was difficult to say. He was in the company of their voices, but he didn't remember dying. He finally shook his head and hoped she could understand. When she got a grasp on the situation, she stated that he wasn't physically there.

He grinned and confirmed her logical hunch. She was better and smarter than he'd ever be. They continued to talk, but he couldn't remember what was said. He saw the lightsaber from before, but he wasn't on the _Finalizer_. She presented it, and it looked clean to him. She might want to get a closer look at his later, and he said so.

He asked after the color, and she answered. He thought she would say green like his uncle's. And then he was back on Starkiller for the briefest of moments. Or blue like his uncle's first saber, like his _grandfather's_ , and in the hands of the scavenger. _Rey._

"I've been tasked with finding the scavenger," he said as he remembered. He was to find Rey and Skywalker and something from the Sith. It would come to him.

The conversation went on, but he didn't feel invested in it. It had already occurred now. It was like watching a holo he'd seen loop time and again.

He was supposed to almost touch her, so he did before moving back. She bid him a good night, and he melted back into the Force.

Alone in confinement. Alone again. Burning and fear and pain and _alone_. Cut off.

A different scream cut through all the others and brought him right back out. It was stronger than the dead. He knew it was her, and she was frightened. Instead of going directly to her, he sought out Yideth. He had to concentrate to connect, so he kept it brief. He mentally demanded an update, and Yideth told him she'd shown his apprentice how to shroud herself and make herself unnoticeable. He realized it was another day though he had just left his apprentice. Time was folding and morphing around him in his forced stasis. Something had gone wrong, Yideth reported and brought him back to the situation at hand, and she was sleeping it off. Yideth added she had been sleeping for two hours now. He acknowledged the information and pulled away.

He followed the bond which connected them and found her deep in sleep as though she was sleeping off an injury. He nestled in deeper than he had ever thought capable and found her dreaming. She was lying on a floor in the _Finalizer_ and wearing training gear.

After taking in the situation, he got her attention. As he emerged from the Force and into her dream, he saw that the floor was his private training room. There was something about the dream which made him feel benevolent. She hadn't chosen a childhood memory or something from Jakku; she had chosen _his_ quarters as a refuge.

He had never been that for anyone before.

He sat down and could feel her mulling over her fumble and what she had seen. He told her to tell him about what had happened and what she had perceived, but she refused. He then told her she would see more of the future in the future.

Instead of some vision of things to come, she had seen something she feared. She had been given a gift of awareness. However, she was still shaken, and he didn't like that.

He maneuvered himself behind her and held her. It was gratifying when she didn't pull away. Being corporeal in a non-corporeal realm made touch into communication. He could feel that death touched her the way it touched him, that her dead were always close--like his and now more than ever. Maybe it was because of the Force that the dead seemed nigh at hand. Either way, the dead voices at his back howled louder than ever when she touched him. It wasn't a surprise then that he could find her even in a dream realm because of this.

She began to feel better, lighter, and she teased him. He caressed her and wished he could really smell her hair, her skin. He realized then--or maybe he had known this since she stepped foot on Yideth's freighter--that he actually missed her. Meeting in dream and through the Force wasn't enough.

He could hear her longing when she asked when she would see him again. He didn't like telling her later, in a few days, because he wanted to tell her he was already there. He wanted to tell her to open her eyes and he would be waiting for her.

However, Snoke had unknowingly seen to this separation, and he would have to go through Snoke to be with her again. He had to give Snoke what he wanted. It also meant he couldn't stay in this dream realm with her.

He gently eased her away and awake as he remained floating the vastness of the Force. He saw her again as if she was standing over him or he was orbiting around her. It was difficult to tell. Had another day passed? She was wearing clothes he'd never seen and looking like he'd never seen her look. She was fierce and snarling and unafraid. Familiar black boots and unfamiliar black robes. He knew what it was, but had never seen it before.

He knew what he had to do.


	5. You're Trying Hard To Breathe; The Water's At Your Neck; There's Lightning In Your Teeth

He stumbled down the ramp, mask in his numb hand, and into the cold desert night of Korriban. His shuttle was gone, as he knew it would be. However, he could feel Snoke getting closer. There was a time when that would have been a good thing.

He didn't know exactly where Rey was, same with Skywalker. All he saw was the craggy island she dreamed about. He didn't think it was just a dream, but a calling for her. He knew that she and Skywalker were connected. If he were to find them, he felt that where she was, Skywalker wouldn't be far behind. He'd be the reason for their deaths in the future, he felt that in his bones, but right now he needed to get back to his apprentice.

And the Helm of Ieldis was nowhere to be found. He thought he heard an echo of it in the Grumani sector. Be that as it may, its signature was scattered like windblown leaves. He had been hoping to use the helm as defense--concentrating on that would keep Snoke from seeing his disregard of the Jedi.

But he had failed in his search.

Snoke would not be pleased with him.

He had to hide his failure, but he'd never had to hide anything from Snoke before. He lay back on the ramp and stared up at the underside of the pyramid and one of Korriban's moons peeking around the edge. He let go of the bronze mask and listened to it tumble down the ramp until it hit sand. He came to the conclusion that being thought a beast was better than being thought a liar. He could be hungry for vengeance and desperate for the tools with which to help exact that revenge.

It could work if he didn't get distracted. He couldn't think of the Knights or who they had with them. He had to focus on himself.

He dozed there for who knows how long, ignoring his growling stomach. Snoke was closer now and gaining a real presence in his consciousness. To Ren, he didn't feel content. He got that the oubliette was supposed to hold him until Snoke was ready. He was supposed to be neutralized for far longer.

It was another strike against him.

He heard the ion engines and concentrated on their sound. There were more than two engines, and he gathered that Snoke had brought back-up. He knew the back-up weren't the Knights because he didn't think they'd turn on him. However, it could be an Order guard-- _that_ felt more accurate. Maybe Snoke had finally decided that Ren was not worth the trouble, seeing as Rey was now a possibility for him. Ren was one of the last powerful Force-users in the galaxy, though. Snoke wouldn't be that short-sighted to try to dispose of him.

His own Upsilon shuttle touched down first, throwing sand and pebbles in every direction. Behind it came Snoke's personal transport. It was taller than First Order regulation trooper shuttles as to comfortably accommodate his height. Ren had only been in it twice.

The ramp on both shuttles nestled into the thin layer of sand which covered up the dry, rocky terrain. Out of the Upsilon came a black-clad deathtrooper. Snoke preferred them to the standard stormtrooper for some reason. But seeing the special rank made him tense, though the trooper stood at attention at the foot of the ramp.

Snoke made his slow way around the Upsilon from his shuttle, and Ren met him halfway. "I see you have liberated yourself from the oubliette," Snoke said.

"Yes, Master."

"The Helm of Ieldis?"

He looked down at Snoke's loose robes like a disobedient dog and he grit his teeth. "I was unable to pinpoint its location."

Snoke hummed and replied, "For all the power you possess, you would not be able to lay hands on it anyway."

Before he could say that he didn't understand, Snoke went on, "It was destroyed years ago."

He took a breath in to reply, but Snoke held up his hand. "The girl?"

"I can find her." Which was true.

"Skywalker?"

He nodded. "They're together." Which he hoped was true.

"Good. Not a complete disappointment, I see."

He took the jab in silence and watched as Snoke produced his crossguard lightsaber from the interior of his outer robe. It was still in the same condition in which he had given it over. He wanted to snatch it out of his master's hands like a starved beggar.

"Do you know why I had you look for the Helm of Ieldis?" Snoke inquired.

"No."

"It is a reminder, Kylo Ren. You cannot search for the past, for it is long gone."

He continued Snoke's thought, "We must let go and look to the future."

"Yes," Snoke wheezed out and held out the lightsaber for him to take.

He plucked the saber from Snoke's hand as he met his master's flinty eyes and hooked the weapon onto his belt. "For the future."

-

Carannia spaceport had once been the jewel of Serenno. It still glittered, but it had seen better pre-Imperial days. He was sure that it had been better before its Separatist days, but that had been before even his parents' time.

The first thing he did after landing and paying the unnecessarily high docking fee was go out into the relatively small open market. Carannia residents didn't think much of street food, if the lack of stalls were anything to go by. He finally found a couple grilling meat and sausages over a pit in a narrow doorway. He tried to keep his hunger in check by only ordering two of their flatbread sandwiches.

The couple had iced bottles of beer, and he bought one of those as well. He walked the short distance to a cluster of tables in the main square, hot foil crinkling in his gloved hand, and sat down. He took off his gloves and practically inhaled the first sandwich, hardly tasting it, and downed half his beer in one go.

He whispered out a curse at how satisfying something like a fresh hot meal was to him. He had discovered on his way over from Korriban that he had been in stasis for weeks. The Force had kept him alive, kept his body weight up, but hadn't exactly provided nourishment.

He opened the second sandwich and actually looked at what he was eating. There was thinly-sliced meat, cut across the grain and tender with crispy edges, tomatoes, onions, and a tangy creamy sauce that was surprisingly good. It wasn't something he'd usually go for since he didn't care much for dairy. He guessed hunger trumped preference in this case.

He finished his second sandwich and drank his beer, momentarily satisfied. He glanced around the square to see no one paying him much mind. It was a relief to really be alone. Snoke was far away, not paying attention to him anymore.

The last thing Snoke had said to him was to retrieve the girl--the scavenger-- _Rey_. Snoke wanted her to abandon the Jedi and embrace the dark side of the Force. He ran a finger over the narrow scar going up his cheek and felt that familiar surge of wrath. He could admit that learning from Skywalker was a good starting point for Rey, but Skywalker shied away from the true power which could be harnessed by utilizing all of the Force. Luke was too pure to get Rey to Ren's own level. Weak they both were--too tenderhearted.

But how could he cast aspersions when such emotions were looming on the horizon for him?

His apprentice was out there, and he yearned to be with her. If he had seen what he was feeling in anyone under him, with the exception of the Knights, he would have carved it out of them. Though, he knew this was something he couldn't take out of himself. It would kill him, and possibly her. He had to make a choice before retrieving her--succumb or reject their bond.

He briefly wondered how she must be progressing. He wasn't expecting miracles. He knew she would still be an amateur when he met up with Yideth and her. However, she could be his finest achievement. Deep down, he knew she could attain balance between her rage--he noted her anger with him--and her kindness.

Before he got too sentimental or contemplative, he stood as put his gloves back on, disposed of his trash, and went back into the market. The late afternoon sky above him was turning golden and soft. The high clouds above were developing a tinge of pink. He knew he didn't have long to find who he needed.

He followed instinct until he came to a tailor. The samples in the window were extravagant with pleating and ruffles and fine fabric. He wasn't looking for anything so fancy, but a well-made outfit shouldn't prove too difficult for someone with obvious talent.

An older, round face peeked out around the burgundy dress he was examining. It took a minute to realize the face was female, and she was motioning him inside. He entered the tight quarters of the shop and was jovially greeted as the petite tailor rounded the front counter. She inquired as to what he was looking for, and he told her of the outfit he had envisioned. She took a small flimsi notepad from one of her apron pockets and began sketching what he described. There was a little going back and forth until the lines on the page mirrored what he had seen.

The tailor slyly looked him up and down and hummed to herself. "You want something that can see a little action, right?" she asked.

"Naturally."

Her eyes briefly lingered on his facial scar. "Elegant, though, not so obvious like yours."

He cautiously nodded. She slipped the notepad back into her apron as she told him to wait. She disappeared into the colorful stacks of bolts of fabric behind the counter. He could hear her mutter to herself and softly grunt as she pulled a few bolts out. She came with three wide boards of black fabric cradled in her arms. She flopped the three down onto the counter and spread them out.

"I recommend this one," she pointed out and tapped a finger on the middle bolt. "The fabric is mostly cotton with gorgodon fur. The slubs in the weave are thin pieces of its hide--blaster-proof."

"Why the fur?" he asked.

"Insulative and fire-resistant," she answered. "Feel it."

He took off a glove and rubbed the fabric between his fingers. It was flexible but not too light and soft but not fuzzy. He ran a hand over the other two fabrics, but didn't like them as much as the cotton-gorgodon. He pushed it forward and said he take that one. The tailor seemed pleased and took the other two bolts away.

Finding the inner robe was much the same process. He settled on a thick gray silk which wouldn't chafe, but wouldn't shift around too much under the outer robe either. Getting measurements was a challenge, but the tailor had him use his memory of his apprentice. He held his hands as if he were gripping her shoulders, her waist, her hips as the tailor measured the inside his hands. He had a momentary flash of supporting his apprentice's luscious ass while he ground his cock against her.

After all the measurements were taken and the final details gone over, the tailor said she'd have the outfit complete at the end of the day tomorrow. He inquired about a decent place to stay while he waited, and the tailor recommended Pero's Promise.

"It's five, six, blocks over and three or so up," she told him as she pointed behind her. " _Quiet_ , clean, good food."

That night he dreamed of blood. Red blood on black metal, black blood on brown stone. There was thunder in the distance and the sweet call of exotic birds echoed out into the encroaching night. He didn't know what it meant, he never knew what any of it meant until it was too late, but he knew it was coming. And he wished he didn't.

In the dark of the hotel room, he had to remind himself that he wasn't in the oubliette anymore. His hands reached out expecting the confining prism-shaped prison only to find open air. The bed under him was too soft, the sheets smooth, the air fresh. He told himself he didn't have to give into every vision or dream that came to him. The future was perpetually in motion, and nothing he saw needed to come to pass.

It didn't matter how right it felt.

He turned on the bedside lamp and stared up at the pale ceiling until sleep took him again. When he woke, the light was still on and the room was the same. There was no distortion, no losing time, no dreamwalking. He was ravenous--a good sign of reality--so he showered and dressed quickly.

He ate again from the open market and afterwards found a pharmacy. He confused the droid working at the counter by wanting to purchase female birth control. He supposed he could've gotten an implant for himself, but that would take going to another planet--and probably one of the Core Worlds. Right now, and while stuck in the Outer Rim, it was easiest to buy his apprentice pills because he really, really didn't want use condoms with her. It was probably irresponsible, but he knew they were both clear of infections. If she didn't approve, he'd go out and get what she wanted.

He realized then, with the small tin of birth control pills in his trouser pocket, that he had already given into the bond. It was hardly a choice when it came down to it. He didn't want to deny its hold, either. Whether it broke him or made him stronger was up to him.

His second stop was a weapon accessories stall for her lightsaber belt connector. Blaster holsters were on prominent display along with fast-draw clips, knife sheaths, and shoulder holsters. The closest the merchant had to the connector for his lightsaber were the fast-draw clips. After asking about them, he got a ridiculous trick shot demonstration with plenty of blaster twirling. It made him think of Han Solo and how he hadn't believed in a lot of flash. He could hear Han's voice tell him, "It's all about speed, kiddo."

He wanted to gut the merchant for being stupid and showing off, but instead he bought a clip that was appropriate for the belt of her battle gear and left the stall. He didn't want to bring attention to himself, after all.

He went back to the hotel, packed up his things, and checked out. He didn't want to spend another night on Serenno. He went down to the spaceport and fueled up the shuttle. While there, he stowed his bag and checked the comm.

His chest went tight and cold when he saw there was a message from Snoke.

> Serenno is a quiet place to rest. However, make sure you do not get lost amongst the peace. I expect you with the girl before the month is through.

He gritted his teeth. He didn't know how Snoke knew where he was. Then again, how had Snoke known when he left the oubliette? He couldn't get away completely, but he could take all the necessary precautions. If the ship had a tracker, he could ditch the ship. If Snoke could hone in on him out here, maybe being on a more populated world would make it difficult.

He needed to switch ships--especially for one that was not with the First Order. He did an encrypted search for rentals and found a place on Ebra. The planet wasn't far and the yard was always open. He put in an immediate request and transferred the proper credits.

A check of the time revealed that it was just after 1600. It was late enough in the day, he decided. And as it turned out, he was correct. The tailor had the completed battle gear on an adjustable dress form off to the left of the counter. When she saw him enter her shop, she perked up and came around to greet him.

His eyes were glued on the robes. They were, in a word, perfect. They were just like what he had seen. The tailor explained what she had done, how the outer robe was lined with the thinnest of black silk, how the belt was reinforced with multiple rows of stitching, how she had left the inner robe's sleeves a little long. He nodded in response to her words.

"I took the liberty of making leggings to go with. I know we didn't discuss it, but I thought she might like them," the tailor confided as she reached behind the counter and produced a black bundle. She handed the bundle over. "Strongest knit I've got. This stuff will take a beating and still look good."

"She'll like these," he agreed with a brief nod.

"Also, I have something for you. I had a cancelled order for a cloak over a year ago." The tailor went to a small nook between the stacks of fabric. "Tall woman, broad shoulders. By the time I got the cancellation, I had already made it." She looked back at him. "You'd be surprised how rare it is that someone so tall walks through my door."

She brought out a black cloak and had to raise her arm rather high to keep the fabric from dragging over the floor. He took it off the hanger for her and draped it over his shoulders. There was a glossy black clasp mid-chest to keep it on, and he fastened it.

There was a long mirror next to the dress form. He turned to it and gave the lower-calf length cloak a once-over. It would be a good addition. The style of it was neutral enough, plain enough, to keep from looking posh. He studied his reflection compared to her battle gear and liked the look of them together.

"I'll take it," he stated.

-

He sat in the two-pod TIE rental and hailed Yideth on the Knights' secured frequency. He didn't want to stay too long in Ebra's orbit lest Snoke realize what he was doing. The first hail went unanswered, and he sat there for a few minutes. His vision blurred for a moment, and he heard her cry out in pain. It was too much for her-- _for anyone_. She was hopeless and alone and beyond afraid.

It felt like a memory, and he wondered if he were back in the oubliette and the galaxy beyond the cockpit windshield was an illusion. Then it came to him. He remembered. He had heard this cry, he had felt this pain. It was something that had caused him nightmares as a boy.

Now he had a face to go with the voice. And it chilled him.

He rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands and then hailed Yideth again. It was answered this time, and he demanded where Yideth had been. She calmly replied that they had been training. He bit back his recriminations because they were doing exactly what he had sent them away to do. Instead, he requested their location, and Yideth read out their coordinates.

He ended the comm as he plugged the numbers into the nav computer. On the screen came up the Sprizen sector, Abafar, near the city Pons Ora. He set course and engaged the hyperdrive. The ETA was forty minutes. It was enough time to get in a little sleep.

The forty minutes wasn't nearly long enough, and he ended up feeling more worn out and irritated than before. He pushed it down and concentrated as he took back the controls from the autopilot. It was night on Abafar, and the desert below the ship was a vast, dark nothingness. In the ungaugeable distance, was a shuttle's landing lights. He checked the nav computer to see that he was almost at Yideth's coordinates.

He landed near the familiar shuttle. The rental shuttered as it shut down and the ramp lowered. He hung up his new cloak and placed the tin of pills on one of the passenger seats before he left the TIE.

As he stepped into the cooling desert night, he saw that Yideth and his apprentice were already waiting for him. He approached them and found them both looking good and not dead--which was preferable. He knew it was rude, but he needed honesty from Yideth, so he greeted her in Huttese. She switched languages and replied by asking how he was.

"Watched," he answered. "We shouldn't stay here long."

"Understood."

"I'll contact you in a few days." Yideth nodded, and he continued, "Any improvement with her?"

"She's trying. Better at blocking. Concentration's good. Offensive moves are getting more aggressive by the session, but she needs direction. She's strong, though--a good addition."

"Thank you for your instruction. It's a debt neither of us will be able to repay."

Yideth almost smirked. "Get us out from under his thumb and consider it paid."

He met Yideth's green eyes in the dull illumination from their ships and gave her a nod. He had always known she didn't like taking orders from Snoke, but it was a relief to know she was on his side and willing to listen to him.

"That's where she comes in," he said, keeping to Huttese.

"I figured as much." She took a deep breath. "If he kills her, I walk. That's it for me."

He could understand that. "Fine." He turned to his apprentice and told her in Basic to get her things and show him what she had learned in her time with Yideth. She nodded and rushed back to Yideth's ship.

Yideth regarded him for a few seconds. "You love her?"

He shrugged. "I _something_ her."

"Empires have fallen for less," she stated and turned away to follow his apprentice.

A moment later, his apprentice was in front of him and Yideth was taking off. The blast of sand and grit had her moving away. He allowed it until she settled a short distance away. He ignited his lightsaber and came for her. She had improved under Yideth's tutelage. She parried and knocked his attacks aside.

He wanted to see her come for him. He wanted to see her eyes flash and her lightsaber gracefully slashing through the air. He told her to attack him, but she refused. She was being stubborn. He attempted to pull her closer with the Force, but she was able to counter it with a push of her own. His saber quivered in his hands at her trying to control it. He struggled to restrain the movement and snarled out a _kriff_ \--no one had ever dared to disarm him this way.

If she was going try to keep her distance, he would have to see that she didn't get her wish. He charged at her, keeping his saber to the side until the last moment. He brought it up and practically crashed against her. The hot plasma crossguard of his lightsaber was close to her forearm, and he didn't want to burn her, but he had to see if she could get out of the hold.

She used the steady hold against him to push him away. She followed through to swipe at his throat with the smooth, fuchsia blade of her saber. She stopped a few scant inches from his neck. In the meantime, he had taken advantage of her swing to get his lightsaber at her side. It was her weak spot, and he would get her to defend herself better in the coming days.

However, they were now at a stalemate. She had held her ground, and he could feel the Force swirling through her movements. It gave him a small amount of hope that his course of action wasn't a completely foolish one.

He withdrew and turned off his saber. She hesitated for a second and then turned hers off as well. He didn't order her to follow as he went back to the TIE to stow her things in the hold. He gently folded her Order coat over the back of a passenger chair. When he came back out into the passenger section, she was examining the tin of pills.

While eyeing a pill that she held between thumb and forefinger, she asked what it was for. He explained they were birth control. He couldn't seem to make himself tell her how he wanted her, of how he wanted no barriers between them. It seemed pathetic to state what he desired with her, but he was prepared to do just that for her if she wanted to hear it.

It surprised him when she said nothing as he crossed through the hatch to the cockpit.

He knew she took the pill, and he knew then she felt exactly like he did. He went through standard lift-off procedures without much thought. He heard the passive sound of her getting a headset on and then her soft breath. She said his name like it was a delicate thing and precious to her.

He wouldn't let it go to his head as he acknowledged her request of his attention. She kept her voice soft as she asked where they were going. He told her the truth, Coruscant. She seemed alarmed at their destination and then pointed out that someone could recognize him. As if his face was widely known. He reassured her that only a select few within the First Order had the _pleasure_ of knowing what he looked like.

She was silent until he had the shuttle jump to lightspeed. "How did you get away?" she asked.

He told her that he had been given the distinct honor of going after the scavenger. She questioned if they were really going after Rey, and he was honest.

"No."

She settled after that and soon enough, he was listening to the gentle sound of her breathing in sleep. He relaxed back in the pilot's seat and synced his breath with hers. It was like they were side-by-side again on the _Finalizer_.

He drifted like that for a while. It was so much better, easier, than in the oubliette. Just being in her presence was a balm.

Before he was ready--and he couldn't believe it had been almost two hours--the terminus alert was beeping at him. He eased the hyperdrive off, so the shuttle didn't rattle too much.

In front of him was Coruscant. He'd only been here a few times and only once without staying in some fourth-rate motel where the rooms didn't have windows or much of a cleaning crew. He couldn't do that to his apprentice, though. He wanted her to be comfortable and experience what he could offer.

He remembered reading guides when he was kid about the Core Worlds and enjoying the holos of plush Coruscant hotels and the bamboo forests of Corulag. He couldn't show her Corulag, but he could offer some form of luxury. He chose amongst the top ten on Coruscant, booked a room under a false name, and transferred credits through a third party. The booking was confirmed and ready for his immediate arrival.

It was afternoon on this side of Coruscant, and the traffic hadn't picked up yet. He ducked the TIE into the stream of speeders with hardly a glitch and followed it around to The Imperial Hotel--a classic from when the Empire had been seen as a good thing.

After he docked in the speeder hangar for The Imperial, he quietly made his way to the passenger pod. She was still asleep and looking adorably pouty huddled under her Order coat. During sleep, she had batted the headset off, and it lay on the armrest next to her.

He watched her for a moment before reaching out and stroking her smooth cheek. She stirred and owlishly blinked up at him until her face blossomed with affection. He'd never wanted to kiss her more.

"We're here," he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reminder of what the battle gear was inspired by: [Nicholas Andreas Taralis, Autumn/Winter 2010/11](http://blvkhouse.tumblr.com/post/140932601264)


	6. When You Burn, You Bleach Everything, and All I Need Is At Your Feet

The luxuriously appointed room was more than good enough for him with its dark blue carpeting and sumptuous furniture. As a kid, he would've made a run for the bed to belly-flop in the center and twist the gray-blue velvet comforter around himself. He wasn't a kid anymore, so he watched her graze her fingertips on the corner of the big bed.

He asked if she liked the room. She drew back and turned to him as if she'd been caught doing something wrong. She hesitated before saying she had never been in such a nice room.

That didn't mean she liked it, so he asked her again. This time, she nodded.

She walked to the huge windows which lined one wall of the suite. She cast a long, dark shadow in the golden light reflecting off the sleek buildings outside. In her heavy black coat and dusty black boots, she seemed not exactly out of place, but more real--more deserving--than the intended clientele.

He stripped himself of gloves and cloak--leaving them on one of the armchairs. As he came up behind her, he realized he was finally, blessedly alone with her. He couldn't feel Snoke, and no one on the _Finalizer_ would ever interrupt them.

Her hair was slowly unraveling from its tie, and he wished to free it completely to run a hand through it, gently fist it, and make her bend her head back. But not yet. He pulled the collar of her coat down, and his eyes followed the slope of her neck until it was obscured by her clothing. He pressed a closed-mouth kiss to her warm skin and breathed in her scent.

She relaxed against him, and they stood there for a few breaths. It was almost what he needed and it would do for now. He didn't want to overwhelm her with his base urges. He yearned for her to need it, to ask for it, and to take it.

In the meantime, he wanted her to try on the battle gear he'd had made. He was unforthcoming about it and he told her to strip as he moved away. She went along with his request and came back to him as he was unloading the new clothes. After eyeing the new clothing, she asked what it all was, and he told her as he held out the thick leggings. He tried not to look too long at her as she wiggled into the pants.

Once he had her fully dressed, he stood and adjusted the collar of the under-robe. She was _almost_ perfect, and he went to get her lightsaber from her coat pocket. He tucked her saber under her belt and finally got a look at her.

She was everything he had seen and more--because she was right there in front of him and real and _his_.

He told her about the outer-robe's qualities. She ran her hand over a sleeve, but still looked a little uncertain. He floundered for a moment of what to say.

"You're beautiful," he stated, because she was.

She frowned and fidgeted--smoothing the fabric against her legs. She asked where a full-length mirror was, and he opened one of the closet doors for her. He stepped to the side as she came up to the mirror and studied herself for a moment. Without looking away from her reflection, she asked if he had chosen the outfit.

He saw no reason to lie, so he told her the truth. He said that he had seen her in a vision, that she had been fierce. He then said that she had been terrifying. He bit back how much he had been proud of that despite not knowing who she was facing in the vision. Even if it were him, he'd be proud.

She turned to him then and seemed to look right into him. Something changed in her demeanor, and she stepped up to him to pull him down into a raging kiss. He couldn't think. All he could do was tug her to him and kiss her back.

When she bit and sucked at his bottom lip, he groaned and got the knot of her belt loosened. He heard her lightsaber hit the floor, but paid it no mind as he got his hands under her clothes. He wanted to devour her, taste her, and make her come. He barely pulled back from her mouth to tell her.

She hesitated with an excuse of training and not being clean. He didn't care about sweat or freshness or whatever people were supposed to be concerned with. She was everything he wanted--and he wanted it all.

 _"I don't care,"_ he repeated, and finally she relented.

He got to his knees, determined to make her forget her reservations. He maneuvered her back against the wall, stripped her from the waist down, got one of her legs on his shoulder, and pushed aside her robes to see her smooth skin.

He could smell her arousal, tangy and sweet with a little salt from her sweat-- _perfect_. Fuck, she was potent and heady. He mentally cursed as he imagined how wet she was. It made him drunk with desire, and he buried his nose in her pubic hair.

He wanted all of her--every inch, every craving, anything. He wanted her come to run down his palm as he fingered her. He wanted to suck on her clit until she screamed for mercy.

She murmured, seeing what he thinking, that she wanted him to do it. _She wanted him._

He tilted her hips and went to work. He dragged his tongue between her legs and pushed it inside her wet pussy. He closed his eyes and savored her delicate taste. He felt her hands in his hair, and then they fisted as he continued.

He knew what she needed, though, and moved up to get at her clit. From above him, he heard her pant and tell him _there_ and _don't stop_. She moved against his mouth, grinding her cunt against his tongue. It made his cock ache and pulse. He was sure his briefs were a gooey mess.

There was no point in delaying because she told him what she wanted, and he certainly didn't want to deny her. He needed it as badly as she did at this point, and he sucked at her clit and circled his tongue around it.

He could feel her orgasm starting to swell. It felt too good to separate himself from it, so he didn't bother. It poured into him as though he were an empty cup. He yearned for something to rub his erection against as he sucked at her, but the restriction of his trousers would have to do.

Above him, she suddenly seized with a sob. Her heel dug into his back as her body pulsated against his lips. He moaned with her, feeling each wave of her tight pleasure as it became his as well. It took him right to the edge. A single flex of his hips, making his cock rub against the cotton of his underwear, had him coming in sticky surges.

She weakly whined as she peaked a second time. He pressed the flat of his tongue against her clitoral hood as he gasped. She sagged against him, and he had to think and act quickly to catch her with hands and the Force.

He got her back against the wall and steadied her as he caught his breath. He couldn't stop himself from luxuriating in her body. She was soft and slick and hot. He felt her loosen her hold on his hair and trace the rim of his ears. He looked up at her and sucked her juices from his bottom lip.

She was simply gorgeous with sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks. She was glowing, and her hair was messy. She smiled down at him and asked if he thought her birth control was in effect yet.

His gut tightened and his spent dick jerked in his soiled briefs at the thought of fucking her. He looked at her thigh draped over his shoulder and told her she'd have to give him a little time to recover. To hide his face, he kissed her belly.

She giggled like a delighted imp in response. He thought about throwing her over his shoulder and swatting her ass. She'd probably fight him until he threw her on the bed and buried his face between her legs again. _Later_ , he told himself. He kept a straight face as he pushed her robes off. He stood and then he asked if she was laughing at him.

"And what if I am?" she returned.

He felt wolfish when he replied he'd have to teach her a lesson.

She gave him a saucy grin. "Is it a sexy lesson, _master_?"

He realized he'd have no trouble getting it up again if she kept calling him that. With a smirk, he yanked her compression top off. He tossed the garment behind him and stilled as he stared down at her breasts. He had kissed the heaving swells of them and caressed them through clothing before. But this was different. She was bare now.

He slid a hand up her ribs to cup one of her breasts. It was supple and delicate-skinned against his rough hand. He ran a gentle thumb around the peaked nipple and felt her intake of breath more than heard it. She pushed her chest into his hand, but remained silent.

He felt the need to explain his behavior, so he told her he had never seen all of her. In the med bay of the _Finalizer_ , the bacta tanks were solid with only a vid-feed for the staff to monitor. Through some sense of propriety, they always curtained off the individual bays for modesty's sake.

"I've thought about it," he murmured. "What you look like. How you taste." He stared down at her kiss-bruised mouth. "My imagination disappointed me."

He couldn't stop himself from kissing her and wouldn't have even if it would damage him. She practically crashed against him, her hands grabbing at his tunic to keep him close. He deepened the kiss, and she responded by giving his tongue a teasing suck.

He had to have her _now_ and he picked her up to walk her to the bed. Her mind was a storm of desire, of flashes like lightning of things she wanted. He wanted to tell she could have all of it, any of it--whatever she needed.

She husked out if this was his lesson, and he dismissed any notion of a lesson as he lowered her down to the big bed. He yanked her other boot off to finally get her fully naked, and told her to move up the bed.

As he was peeling off his own clothing, she stilled and studied him with hungry eyes. He saw her lick her lips as her gaze traveled down his body. Until that point, he'd never felt the blood rush down to his cock. But now he knew what he'd only overheard men brag about. Maybe it was because no one had ever bothered to look at him like she did. Sure, people had wanted to fuck him before, but it hadn't felt like this.

He could see clearly what she wanted to do, and he rasped out her name. She gave him a wholly unapologetic grin as she moved back. He kept his eyes on her as he blindly disrobed, thinking about her little fantasy.

He could almost see it, too. Him on his back, the suspenders for his trousers wrapped around his forearms, his undershirt pushed up to expose his belly. She between his legs, unzipping his pants, and wrapping her graceful hand around his cock. She would crouch over him and give a teasing lick to the tip to start...

She threw him out of the daydream as she spread her bent legs. Her tender, pink slit was glistening and looked downright juicy in the late afternoon light. She eased a finger into her wetness to pleasure herself and asked him what he was waiting for.

He couldn't think of a damn thing to wait for.

So, he didn't. He crawled up the bed to her, his heavy cock swinging between his thighs. As he got between her legs, she slid down a little from her reclined position against the mound of pillows. She reached between them and gently stroked his erection. He desperately wanted to thrust into the loose channel of her hand, but he bit his lip and kept still. If he moved, he was sure he'd lose it completely.

She whispered, "What're you waiting for?"

He wanted to say he didn't know. Some signal maybe?

She spread her legs wider, and he looked at her dripping cunt. He was going to know what she felt like around him. He had jerked off too many times to what it would be like. And here she was under him, wanting him. That was signal enough for him.

He balanced himself with a hand on the headboard in front of him as he widened his stance. Her hands at his waist guided him down. When she didn't take hold of his cock, he did and settled the head of it in the flushed folds of her body. She met his eyes and told him to push his dick in her.

He mentally cursed as he sunk inch by inch into her heat. She felt so good--the hot clutch of her, the easy glide of wetness. Once in her to the hilt, he paused for them both. She didn't feel like she was uncomfortable, but he'd rather not chance it. Besides, he needed the moment of stillness to just not blow.

She wiggled a little, getting herself in position, and that little movement had him groaning and clenching and praying to last. Her gentle hands smoothed up his chest to play with his nipples. He bit back a cry and involuntarily arched. His cock rocked inside her, making her curse.

He asked if she were ready and prayed that she'd say yes. She bit her bottom lip and nodded.

He curled over her and began to slowly thrust. He kept it deep and slow, easing them into it. She kept making these sweet little noises that had him moving faster, wanting to draw her out into ecstasy. He leaned down on an elbow to be closer to her, to ask her if it was good, to maybe then kiss her, but before he could she let out a moan.

"Yes!" she encouraged him. "Right there!"

He could do _right there_. She was slick and hot and tight, and felt more right than anyone he'd had before. Her breasts were rubbing against his chest, and her hands were clutching at his sides. He never wanted to stop fucking her. She suddenly sat up a little and yanked him in tight by the ass until he was pumping his cock inside her at a reckless pace.

He used his grip on the headboard to pull himself forward and help him give her the angle she needed. He rested his forehead on her shoulder and discovered he could see perfectly between them. Her body shook with each thrust, and his cock was drenched with her juices. He closed his eyes and focused on her. He'd been desperate to feel her come around him.

Her orgasm had her breathless and clawing at his back. Her pussy contracted and pulsed around him, driving him to the brink. She cried for more, and he knew she wanted it harder.

He squeezed his eyes closed, ignoring the sweat trailing down his temples, and gave it to her. She sobbed in his ear for him to come. He thought about filling her up with his come until it gushed out of her. He let go of the headboard, pushed an arm under her shoulder, and got a solid grip on her.

From then it was a fever dream as he fucked her how he had always wanted to--fast and hard. It was too good, too much, and she was so open to him. He could feel her all around him. Her skin slid against his with sweat, her strong legs squeezed his sides, and her pussy kept contracting around his throbbing cock.

He buried his face in the pillows and gave himself over. He couldn't stop himself from coming as his balls drew up and his whole body tensed. He knew he yelled, but it seemed muted and unimportant as he came in wave after fervent, overwhelming wave. He could feel his dick pulse in the hot, perfect grip of her body.

He stayed there like that until the shudders of orgasm died down. He pushed himself out of the pillows and looked down at her. She was beautiful even while covered in sweat and her hair a tangled halo. She looked up at him like no one ever had.

How could he not kiss her? So, he did.

He whispered more to himself than her that this was _his_ and she was _his_. No one could take her away, and he wouldn't let them if they tried. She smiled again, and he gave her one more kiss before pulling away.

He pushed his damp hair out of his face and watched his come start to ooze out of her deeply pink vagina. He was about to ask if he'd been too rough, but she let her legs go straight with a contented sigh. He had to trust her to tell him when he'd gone too far.

He threw a knee over her thigh and rolled himself over to land in the mound of pillows next to her. They lay there in silence for a time before she asked about the pseudonym he'd chosen--Mitaka. He didn't care for Lieutenant Mitaka, but Mitaka was smart enough not to confront him if he should become aware of Ren using his name. He didn't tell her that, of course.

With talk of the _Finalizer_ and her crew finished, he rolled to face her and idly ran a finger down the curve of her breastbone. He almost asked if she wanted to go again, but it had been a long day and they were both tired. He knew he wouldn't be able to give a repeat performance.

She sat up with a soft groan and scrambled to get off the bed. He was about to ask if she was alright, but caught a glance of the comforter. Had it been so long since he'd had sex that he forgot about wet spots? Then that had him thinking of what he'd done to her and how much he wanted to see it. He asked her to wait as she stood, and she did with a glance over her handprint shoulder.

"Bend over," he said as he crawled to her. "Show me."

As if to be coy, she slowly bent forward until she braced herself with hands on her knees. Her back was arched to perfectly present her ass. He watched as a single syrupy drop of their come trickled down her inner thigh. He caressed one cheek of her rear and was half-tempted to buried his face back between her legs as he told her how beautiful she was.

Before he could, she straightened up and turned to face him. She was resplendent in the half-light of the suite, and he seemed pulled to her brilliance like a comet caught in an orbit around a star. She pulled him in for a kiss, and all he felt was _good_. He had found her and seduced her, and together they would fulfill his grandfather's legacy.


	7. You Got That Medicine I Need

He woke to a shocked, frightened yell and instinctually grabbed his lightsaber. His apprentice was standing on the other side of the bed and shouting at him about something. He dropped his saber back on the nightstand and turned on the bedside light.

He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness only to see her brandishing her extinguished saber at him and crying. She was backing away as she accused him of killing padawans. She mentioned Luke Skywalker. He tried not to think about Skywalker's green lightsaber.

The night had been going so well until this, he blearily thought. They had eaten a good dinner together and then curled up to watch a broadcasted sling race in absolute peace. She had held him and called him gorgeous. He had told her about his grandfather living here on Coruscant. They had kissed, and it had been _real_.

She was now upset that he had tried to take down his foolish uncle. She was crying because he had eliminated a group of ineffectual Jedi. It had been a mercy he had bestowed on them, but he didn't know how to explain that to her. The Jedi were going to ruin the galaxy and tarnish what Darth Vader had started.

"I did," he confessed to killing those padawans.

She reiterated what he had said earlier--that he wasn't going after the scavenger. She then voiced her revelation, which was that he wanted Skywalker dead. He agreed because he did want Skywalker dead. He wanted the scavenger dead, too. However, they could wait.

She asked him, "How could you look at crying children and kill them?"

He told her she didn't understand, and she really didn't. He'd had his orders from Snoke, the logic of the command had been laid out in front of him at the time. How could he have said no when it had made so much sense? He told her he'd had his orders. He had followed them because he needed to prove to Snoke and to himself that he was worthy of his family legacy. It didn't matter if it had sickened him, that he hadn't been able to hold down a meal for days following the slaughter.

"Fuck Snoke!" she bellowed.

"He's my master!" he returned. "I had to obey. I had too much to learn, there was too much to learn from him. I couldn't refuse."

She stood there, quivering with pent-up fury, and he could feel the darkness rising and getting stronger inside her. He eased out from under the covers and stood on the opposite side of the bed. He took a gamble and told her the truth--that he hadn't wanted to do it.

Her upper lip curled in contempt as she accused him of being weak.

His first instinct was to lash out and hurt her the way she had so easily insulted him. He struggled for a second not to choke her until she went _silent_. He asked himself how that would ultimately play out. He'd have a cowering apprentice--or worse, a runaway one--who would end up getting herself killed instead of an actual partner.

With a mental sigh, he admitted out loud that he had been desperate. She seemed unmoved as the dark side swirled around her.

"No one was there! They sent me away!" he yelled as he rounded the bed. She backed into the wall as he moved. "Uncle was busy with other, more important padawans!" Less volatile students, he thought as he took a step closer. "Snoke wanted me when no one else did!"

It was true, he unnerved everyone who had ever tried to know him. His eyes saw too much, he read too deeply into others, he knew of future actions. Snoke had fully accepted him and saw his potential. But no one had felt for him--not even Snoke--the way _she_ did.

And now it was obvious that she was going to leave him, too.

"And what about me?" she asked. "Are you going to kill me when Snoke orders you to?"

"No, you're mine. You'll always be mine."

She asked what he would do if she didn't want to be his any longer. His gut clenched and his heart seized. Did he not treat her well? Had he done something--like he always did?

"You said you were," he barely got out. "You agreed that you were."

Like a precise blow to the solar plexus, she stated, "Things change."

"Don't say that." He almost begged her to take it back, but he had never begged for anything before and he wouldn't start now. Things weren't supposed to change so quickly. She wasn't supposed to know his past yet, or ever. He took a step closer to her and was about to reach for her when she brought her lightsaber between them.

"No, Kylo."

"Say you're mine. Say you want me, too." He needed to hear that it wasn't over. He leaned forward to touch her, but she reacted as if he were about to strike her.

He was flat on his back before he could even register flying through the air. The bed naturally cushioned him from any injury. He found himself immobile when he tried to sit up. She was holding him down with the Force as though he would attack her.

"I would never hurt you." He tested her hold to find it strong, but breakable. "Have I ever hurt you?" he asked.

She melted against the wall and shook her head. She looked so lost and hopeless. It wasn't supposed to be like this. They were supposed to have a reprieve from all that had come before, from all that was coming.

He felt her Force hold lift and he sat up. "When I sent you away with Yideth, it felt like dying," he spat. "I don't want to be without you. Tell me you want me, too."

She remained silent, though. He didn't know how to fix this. He didn't know if he could fix this. He scooted off the bed and padded over to his apprentice. He tilted her face up and hated how brokenhearted she felt. Somehow, he had done this to her, but he couldn't fix it if she didn't want him.

"Tell me," he murmured as he studied her tearful eyes. He thought at her, _Tell me, and I'll do whatever you want, kill whoever you want._

He'd kill the whole First Order if she wanted it.

She croaked, "I want you."

It was the most reassuring thing he'd heard in a long time. She still wanted him after all she'd seen.

However, she was weeping and upset. He couldn't do much at the moment but offer her some solace. He didn't know how to do that since he'd never comforted anyone ever in his life. He thought lying down was a good start, so he walked them to the bed and got them under the blankets once more. It seemed the dam broke once she was settled against him, and she cried herself to sleep. He held her to him and stroked her hair until her breathing smoothed out in slumber.

He kept holding her even as he realized what he had done. He had told her that Luke Skywalker was his uncle. If she knew anything about the New Republic, she would know that Skywalker and his mother were fraternal twins. If she ever delved deeper, she would discover that Anakin Skywalker--later Darth Vader--was his grandfather. While the connection to Vader was something he was proud of, he wasn't ready for her to know it. He wanted to introduce Darth Vader-- _his grandfather_ \--to her through things which had been told to him. Surely, she would see Ren himself differently, in a better light, through the truth that was his family.

It was too late to take back _the grand reveal_. He'd have to navigate the coming days very carefully with her.

When he opened his eyes in the morning, it was to her watching him. He studied her for moment, seeing no fear in her eyes, before asking if she was still with him. Her face was blank when she replied that he should be asking himself that.

He tucked a hand under the sleeve of her robe and ran his fingers over her smooth skin.

"I'm with you until the end." Whenever that was. Like he was going to change his mind now, anyway. If she'd have him... He didn't know what he'd do. He'd tell her everything. He'd destroy whole systems for her, if she wished.

She whispered, "You're mine."

He relaxed against his pillow. The tension that had been in his back eased away. Perhaps they'd both get that reprieve if the Fates would leave them alone for a few days.

From the closet where his bag was stashed came the incessant beeping of his comm. He sighed at himself for thinking of peace too soon and stood to answer.

He expected Yideth on the other end, but it was Kin Al. Apparently, Yideth had been talking to her fellow Knights. Kin Al was cagey over the comm, but that was par for the course when talking on a nonsecure line. Kin Al asked to meet at the White Wyrm--a cheap, hole-in-the-wall where no one noticed anything--in a couple hours. He asked to meet his apprentice, and Ren asked about Jeckhum. If Kin Al was around, Jeckhum wouldn't be too far behind.

"He won't be there," Kin Al stated.

He smirked. "Lovers spat?"

"Fuck you and no." Kin Al crossed his arms over his chest. "I'll buy you both a drink, and we can talk."

"How can I resist. We'll see you in two."

They got dressed and had another good meal. He requested a few tools with the breakfast order so he could attach the coupling plate to her lightsaber. She expressed her concerns about the Knights during breakfast, and they weren't entirely unfounded. If Kin Al found her lacking, he would never agree to go against Snoke. He would take Jeckhum with him, too. While Kin Al and Jeckhum being together had never been much of a problem before, he didn't think he could do this without them.

From her place beside him on the sofa, he could feel the heat of her anger and frustration, and he acknowledged it to her.

She almost agreed that she was angry. "I am a lot of things."

She was under the impression that the Knights would take her head. As if he'd allow that. No, he was the Master of the Knights of Ren, and the title alone had a certain amount of power to it. They were connected to him in ways which were stronger than mere loyalty. They were a unit and his to command.

She didn't get it yet. The Knights would never be a threat to her as long as he was alive. Maybe not even if he wasn't. He had gotten to this point--with the Knights and to her--by following the path Snoke had laid out for him. He wouldn't take the past back even if he could and said as such.

He stood to burn off the extra energy flowing through him and continued, "I did it. I did worse. I did what I had to do!"

Even it meant killing younglings.

"So, you want me to put it behind me? Forget I ever saw it?"

"Yes!" He turned from the main door of the suite and pointed out, "I'm with you now. _You._ " He put his hands out. "Together we can do what I cannot do with Snoke. Together we can finish what my grandfather started."

She scoffed, "Who's your grandfather? What did he do?"

He knew he couldn't hold it back from her any longer. She was going to figure it out, anyway. She would either be cowed or impressed, or both, so he told her:

"Darth Vader."

She blanched and leaned back against the couch. She seemed to be catching her breath as she put a hand to her forehead. "What did Darth Vader start?" she softly asked and didn't meet his eyes.

He told her Vader had been bringing order to the galaxy. He waved a hand to the vast city beyond the windows and said that the New Republic was a joke of government and did nothing but bicker. That had allowed the Resistance to gain power. He eased closer to her and said, "You suffered under the New Republic. You were orphaned and no one cared because of them."

Her face twisted with a snarl as she stood up. She darkly hissed up at him, "Lor San Tekka cared about me."

"He was Resistance, through and through. He was of the very system which neglected you." He bent to meet her eyes on her level. "He allowed you to suffer."

He thought of her forsaken younger self barely surviving in the desert of Jakku. She had practically been a child then. And Tuanul had accepted her only to taint her. He supposed a warm welcome must've been a challenge with such _an insolent little brat_. Still, there was a part of him that wished to destroy again those who had taken her and corrupted her.

She Force-called the screwdriver he had requested earlier and jammed it against his neck. Threats of physical violence were hardly a deterrent at this point because he knew she couldn't do it. If the situation got out of hand, he felt he could control her.

She growled, "You're the one who has brought me the most suffering."

"I have given you freedom and power. There is no coming into your own without a little pain," he pointed out.

She asked if that was what Snoke had told him, but he denied it and told her Skywalker had said it. She blinked in surprise and battled with herself a moment before screeching in his face. She blindly flung the screwdriver and then pushed him away. She stalked towards the bathroom, and he rushed after her.

He stopped her right at the threshold to the bathroom and held her against him. She didn't fight him, but she didn't relax against him either.

"Remember, I'm with you to the end," he murmured in her ear. "I'm on your side. I always have been."

She snorted and wiggled against him in a half-hearted attempt to pull away.

"I'm yours, and you're mine," he told her.

"If you're mine, you won't ever do again what you've done. That's what being mine means."

He could do that. He could hold off on hunting Jedi until she came around and saw the truth. He could be hers and give her what she needed. He vowed to her then that he wouldn't repeat his past actions.

She accepted his vow and relaxed against him. He kissed the smooth junction of her neck and shoulder. She would come to understand. He buried his face against her neck. It was quickly becoming one of his favorite places on her body.

-

Mid-afternoon found him attaching the coupling plate to his apprentice's lightsaber while she meditated. She was still displeased with him. The meeting with Kin Al hadn't helped the situation. He had felt Jeckhum lurking somewhere nearby, watching them from somewhere on the street. If he had concentrated more, he could've pinpointed Jeckhum's location, but it hadn't seemed worth it.

When she had found out Jeckhum had been observing them, she got offended she'd been left out of the loop. How could Jeckhum feel her out if she was trying to appear normal? It was best that she just be her normal self and ignorant of Jeckhum.

Ren knew they'd find her at least acceptable. He had chosen well with his apprentice. They'd see that with time.

He checked over his work on her lightsaber and thought it sound. He had been very careful. Her saber was so clean compared to his. Of course, she didn't have a cracked kyber to stabilize.

He announced that he had finished as he turned from the window ledge turned workbench. His voice died when he found her gone. He could feel her, but that just meant she was alive. He looked around the room to see no evidence of her and called out her name. She didn't answer.

He stood and noticed her coat where she had left it, along with her boots by the bed. He had her lightsaber, so he didn't think she'd leave without it. Unless she was very desperate. He didn't think he'd pushed her that far.

He went into the open bathroom to see if she was busy in there to find no one. He returned to the main room and recalled that Yideth had introduced her to a shrouding technique. He said to the room at large that he knew she was still there. He then asked if Yideth had taught her how to employ such an advanced technique.

"It's most impressive," he stated and put her lightsaber down on the nearest nightstand. He thought being unarmed would make her feel more open to revealing herself.

However, nothing happened. He padded closer to the windows and looked for evidence that she was around. Maybe she had nudged something out of place. A brief inspection revealed nothing.

He sighed to himself and wondered if she wanted him to say more. He opened his mouth to ask, but stopped himself as he heard the pattering of her bare feet on the ledge. A pillow launched itself off the ledge, giving away her exact location.

He gave chase as she dropped the shroud. He playfully pursued her around the living room area, grabbing at her ankle as she vaulted over the sofa. His heart was pounding as he tackled her to the bed. She wrestled him flat on his back, and he didn't put up much of a fight as she straddled his waist. She teased him a little about wanting her attention, but he shrugged it off. He did want her to see what he'd done. If she didn't like it, he'd fix it.

She Force-called her saber and examined his work. She was silent for a few tense seconds before he spoke.

"I made sure not to pierce the insulator or the power cell," he explained.

She barely nodded and then fired up her lightsaber. It burned deep magenta in the afternoon sunlight. If she were angry enough, she could easily stab him through the chest. Fortunately for him, she was too conflicted and ambivalent to do much of anything.

He ran his hands up and down her outer thighs and asked if she'd ever been burned by a saber. She showed him the narrow pink line of scar tissue on her upper arm and identified Yideth was the perpetrator. He asked if it had been an accident, and she replied that it hadn't been. He wasn't surprised--Yideth was ruthless.

"How come I never noticed that before?" he asked.

"Probably because you've been too busy with other parts of me."

He grinned and gave her thighs a squeeze. He'd like to get reaquainted with the other parts of her. "Turn it off and kiss me."

She extinguished her saber and tossed it up the bed. She curled over him and offered him a delicate kiss. It was just a brush of her soft lips and it wasn't enough. He pulled her hips down to grind his dick between her legs and half sat up to catch her in a real kiss. She indulged him for long moments before sitting up and yanking his hands off her.

She pressed his forearms to the bed told him she'd fuck him when and how she wanted. He tested her hold to see if he could unseat her. She was strong, but not strong enough to keep him down if he didn't wish it. However, he'd play her game because it was her.

She told him to keep his hands on the bed as she ran her fingertips down his arms. He looked into her eyes, finding it easy to lose himself and drift under her gentle touch. She pulled the neck of his shirt down and left open-mouthed kisses on his neck, his collarbone.

She got his shirt off and ran her hands all over his torso. He couldn't help but arch into her slow touch. The bite of her fingers pinching his nipples had him gasping and his cock jerking in his briefs.

She asked him if anyone had taken their time with him, and he shook his head. He felt beyond words and he watched her kiss her way up his chest. She asked him if she could take her time. The very thought had him tensing and stomach swooping as his desire ratcheted up.

She kissed and sucked at his neck which had his eyes rolling back in their sockets. She sucked on his earlobe, and he thought his dick was going to have fabric imprints on it from how hard it was pressing against his clothing. He was desperate to feel her hot mouth on his cock, her hand around the base to steady it and stroke it. He wanted to finger her and find where she was most sensitive and exploit it until she was coming.

She murmured his own fantasies to him, and it took everything in him to keep his hands on the bed. She moved his head around by his neck to face her. He was aware of his breathing with her fingers putting a little pressure on either side of his windpipe.

Her lips were on him again, kissing his jaw, briefly against his mouth, then onto his cheeks and his forehead. He wanted to scoot up and kiss her back, but the hand on his throat kept him still.

He opened his eyes when she sat up, and he almost reached for her. He watched as she got her tank and compression top off. He raised his hands to caress her, but let them drop because she didn't want him to touch.

Instead, she teased her nipples until they puckered. His mouth watered at the sight and he almost told her to keep going.

She asked if he wanted to touch her or taste her. He stared at her breasts and nodded. He wanted to do anything she'd let him do to her tits. Her voice hardened as she ordered him to tell her. A frisson went through him at the command, and he told her he wanted to kiss her breasts.

She purred out _so good_ and bent over him. He kissed right in the valley of her breasts and didn't know where to go, where to feast first with such a bounty above him. He realized then that he had steadied her ribs with his hands and hoped like hell she wouldn't notice.

"No," she reprimanded and sat up.

He sank into the bed. He had the urge to overpower her and just fucking _take_ what he wanted. He'd make it good for her, _so good_ , she had to know that. However, he knew that wouldn't get him far in the long run. Besides, he had his half-naked apprentice on his lap--things were bound to get better.

He decided to apologize since it was easier to admit guilt and move on. He tried to explain himself, but she shushed him and got off the bed. He sat up as he tried to follow her, but she told him no again and began undressing.

He watched her and adjusted his erection, giving himself a little squeeze-and-stroke. She caught him and, with a pleased glint to her eyes, told him to get his hands off his dick. He flopped back and let out a frustrated sigh.

When she climbed back on the bed, she informed him with all confidence that he was going to make her come until she told him to stop. He looked at her kneeling beside him and knew she wanted to straddle his face.

She added, "You can't use your hands."

"Not even to support you?"

"No, be creative," she replied.

Before he could get another word in, she was hovering above him. It was like yesterday all over again, except this time she was in control. She got into position, and he pushed his tongue into her wet slit.

He kissed and licked at her folds, knowing he was teasing her. Suddenly, there were her fingers opening herself up, and he breathed out a groan finding it easier to get to her clit. She was more worked up than he thought as she quickly had her first orgasm. The pleasure of it thudded through him, working down his spine to settle right at the base.

He pressed the flat of his tongue against her clitoral hood. In what was probably the best thing to happen to his face, she starting rocking her hips. The slick folds of her cunt rubbed all over his mouth and chin. He breathed in the heady scent of her as he worked his tongue against her.

She stiffened over him and cried out. She began falling back, but he caught her with the Force. She curled over him, fisted his hair, and told him to suck again. She fucked his mouth as she ground down, her clit cupped in his tongue.

A deep moan and her pulsating pussy told him he'd done well enough. She braced herself with hands on her knees, and it felt like she was going to lose her balance. He caught her again.

She gasped out that she didn't know if she could do one more. He wanted to tell her he didn't want to stop. He was drenched in her pleasure, and it was too good to quit now.

He had a thought of how to wring one more out of her. He'd never tried it with anyone--not even himself. He didn't know if he could do it, but he concentrated on penetrating her. It was difficult to focus his energy on any one place, but he could tell he'd found something good when she moaned.

He mentally told her to go slow, and she began rocking again--steady and intense. He struggled to keep up, but they found a rhythm which suited her if her breathing was any indication.

They kept going as she began letting out pleasured groans and was fisting his hair again. The orgasm she experienced had her half way to screaming. He felt burned from the inside-out as her ecstasy coursed through her and down into him.

She went limp, and he caught her with his hands and the Force. She groaned as he got her down safely to the bed. With as much finesse as his shaking hands could summon, he maneuvered the covers from underneath her. She softly groaned at the feeling of cool sheets.

He got up and stripped off the rest of his stifling clothing. He glanced up to see her watching him through slitted eyes. His cock awkwardly bobbed in the air as he got back on the bed. He tried to ignore it as much as possible.

She half-rolled onto her side and touched his cheek. "You're covered in me."

He pressed his palm over hers and felt his dick throb. He had made her come again and again. He could only taste her in his mouth. He debated if she could actually handle penetration, but she was probably too sensitive for it to be pleasurable at all.

However, he recalled from his padawan days letting a boy push his erection between his thighs. At the time, everyone had been too nervous to try penetration. There had been spit and fumbling hands and the back of his balls being nudged by the head of the other boy's cock. It had been weird and messy, but strangely satisfying.

He asked if she'd like to be covered in him, and she practically purred. He told her to fully face him as he laid down. When face to face on their sides, she ran a hand down his side and over the numb bowcaster scar. He pushed down the thought of how he got it and hugged his apprentice to him. She wrapped her arms around him and rested her forehead against his chest.

He told her to open her legs and then scooted forward to rest his erection on her damp inner thigh. When she lowered her leg down, he couldn't stop his groan. The silky heat of her plush thighs was almost as good as being inside her. Her pubic hair just tickled the top of his cock.

She squeezed her legs tighter together and pushed her hips forward. The friction and warmth was perfection. He buried his nose in her loose hair and thrust his cock between her thighs.

He moaned, and she replied by yanking him against her and whispering that he should fuck her and cover her in his come. The slap of his thighs against hers and the wet squelching of his thrusts was a filthy backdrop to her dirty encouragements. He screwed his eyes shut and gripped her harder as he found his pleasure with her body.

Orgasm was shimmering just within his grasp, and he fucked her until he was blinded by long-denied satisfaction. It was hot and white like a star going supernova. He felt weak and boneless. He wanted to thank her or his body or the Force for guiding him to her.

He felt her smooth back his hair from his face. She whispered, "You're so beautiful."

He opened his eyes at that and his cock gave a valiant twitch at her soft words. He didn't want to fuck again, but he did want to kiss her. He pulled her up the bed and kissed her with all the affection he could muster. He wanted to feel her all around him and urged her to hook her top leg over his waist.

She hugged him with arms and leg. When he broke the kiss, he pressed his forehead to hers and looked into her lovely, expressive eyes. Her gaze was so warm and accepting. He was sure no one outside of his estranged family had ever looked at him like this. He was certain he was becoming addicted. He was uncertain if he cared.

He told her he didn't want to do this without her. He couldn't kill Snoke without her. He didn't want to return to the First Order without her. And he couldn't see himself feeling connected to anyone else like he was with her.

She replied that she wasn't leaving. He smiled and pushed his face between the mattress and her neck where it was dark and smelled like her. He'd do everything in his power to keep her because she was worth it--what they had was worth it.


	8. You're the Home Beneath the Ruin

He looked down between their bodies to watch as his cock slid inside her again. She pushed back against him, using the bed as leverage to meet his thrusts. He held her hips to control her body so he wouldn't accidentally slip out.

Her back had a subtle sheen of sweat forming across the divots of her shoulder blades and spine. Her hair was wild and loose. Her cunt was so hot and wet.

He couldn't get enough.

"Reach back and spread yourself for me," he requested.

Her shaking hands spread her luscious ass, and he could clearly see his erection halfway buried in her tight body. The little pucker of her asshole was wet too, and he wished he had more hands, more dicks, more tongues to love her.

He squeezed his eyes closed as his pelvis met the backs of her hands and moaned at the very thought of fucking every part of her. From below, he heard her answering groan. Her whole body was quivering and thrumming and needful.

He tightened his hold on her and gave her every inch of him over and over. He watched as her kiss bruised mouth silently opened against the stark white sheets and her lips dragged against the cotton. Her eyelashes of her closed eyes fluttered with every thrust. He wanted to order her to come, but he wasn't a commander here and this bed wasn't a battlefield.

However, he could get her there without his hands. Like playing with a new toy, he wanted to try using the Force to manipulate her body again. He slowed to a stop, and she whined. He knew what she wanted--him to come deep inside her. She wanted to feel it filling her up as he lost control.

He groaned her name, wanting to promise he'd do it. He'd give her what she wanted until his come ran down her legs. He silently cursed and tried to focus. He concentrated on feeling her body through the Force. He knew just where she needed stimulation, and she was still so sensitive.

When he knew he'd found the perfect spot, her back arching in silent agreement, he began moving again. He hammered his cock inside her, barely letting himself pull halfway out before pushing back inside. He knew they were both close, but he needed her to come. He worked the invisible tendrils of the Force against her body, pressing and circling around her delicate clit.

Her breath caught in her throat and her body tensed. He bit his lip as he continued to fuck her with all that he had. As she came, her sweet pussy clenching around his cock, she curled inwards and moaned against the bed.

 _"Fuck,"_ he snapped. He couldn't hold back any longer. His use of the Force disappeared as he surrendered to climax. He pushed his pelvis tight to her ass as he came in dizzying waves inside her. For one glorious moment, he felt light yet grounded, connected yet unbound.

Her arms flopped to the bed as she relaxed against him. He braced himself with a hand on the bed and placed the other one on her belly to ease them both down. He propped himself up on his elbows and rested his head on her shoulder once they were horizontal. He could feel the hot liquid of his release pooling against the tip of his cock and he knew the second he pulled out of her, it would gush out.

He thought about pulling out and pushing his come back inside, working his fingers in her and making her moan. Before he could act on the impulse, he felt his very empty stomach rumble. He commented that he was hungry, and she softly grunted in agreement.

He pushed up, decision made to take care of her, and quietly mourned pulling out. She lifted her ass in the air and gave a little whine. He smiled to himself, ran a hand down her spine, and told her he'd be right back.

He made his way into the bathroom on teetering legs and wet a clean washcloth with warm water. He cleaned her up as well as he could, headed back to the bathroom, and rinsed the cloth under the water once more before giving himself a quick wipe down.

He glanced at his scarred reflection in the mirror. He didn't want to focus on his muck-brown eyes, his big nose, his weak jaw for too long. However, his reflection was too repellent to be fantasy. It was all real. She hadn't left him. They were truly bonded through the Force. They were going after Snoke and they would kill him.

Kin Al had commed earlier and told him that Jeckhum and Ginji were in. Ren could order all the Knights to follow, and they would, but this was a test. He had to know for certain if they would act despite their internal hesitations. If they wouldn't, he knew what he'd have to do--if he survived.

Perril and Baltek would be easily swayed if Yideth was involved since they practically worshipped her. Ginji was the most neurotic of them and even he was agreeing. Kin Al bristled under any order from Snoke so he was anxious to get started, and Jeckhum never minded any assignment as long as he could enjoy himself afterwards. Everything was coming together, and all because of his apprentice.

Maybe he wouldn't walk away from the confrontation, he thought, but at least he had chosen a side. At least he'd had something good for a time.

He bent over the bathroom sink, splashed his face with cold water, and dried off with one of the plush hand towels. He filled two of the complementary tumblers on a tray by the sink and went back into the bedroom.

He handed the tumblers to her and retrieved the dumplings that they had gotten after meeting Kin Al. He settled under the sheets beside her and activated the holoscreen. Much to his dismay, a First Order propaganda transmission was the first thing that came on. He watched it in morbid curiosity and could feel his apprentice's disgust.

She asked what was going to happen when Snoke died. In all honesty, he hadn't been keeping up with the goings-on in the Order and didn't know if Hux had saved himself or not. Hux was one of only a handful of the highest command within the Order. Ren had to assume if Hux was still part of that elite group, he would assume the role of Supreme Leader. However, that was inconsequential to him--Hux's survival wasn't important. He, and the First Order, was a means to an end.

Darth Vader had accomplished many things as Emperor Palpatine's Supreme Commander. He mentally pointed out that Vader would have achieved even more if he had been emperor. Ren didn't know if he himself could do any better than his grandfather. And would he want to deal with the last vestiges of the fallen Empire through the First Order? Would he want to sit at the head of the most powerful military force in the galaxy?

Those were questions he would have to answer later. For now, he'd concentrate on Snoke.

He gave a shrug to her question and said, "I assume there will be a fight for power within the organization."

She looked down at her soggy container of room-temperature dumplings. "Will you be one of them?" she asked.

"No," he replied. "I don't need an army of thousands to get what I want."

All he needed was the Force and, for now, his apprentice to be a decoy. No longer would he be used and discarded like a dirty rag or handed off like an inconvenient pet. He would fulfill his destiny as the best Force-user in the galaxy.

That night he stared up at the dark ceiling. The opacity of the windows was set at ninety percent and there was just enough illumination to see his hand in front of his face. The faint, multi-colored light coming from the windows shone on his apprentice's serene face and her bare shoulder. He could just make out the fall of her hair against her pillow.

He knew she was going to speak in hushed tones before she opened her beautiful mouth. She asked about people who came before. He had tried not to think about them, seeing as most of them were probably dead now. He absolutely didn't want to think about the unworthy inhabitants of Jakku knowing her, _touching_ her. He recognized she wasn't inexperienced, but the lovers who came before were an amorphous concept. Of course, there were others before him, and maybe they could've loved her better, but he was next to her now. And no one would replace him.

He turned on his side to face her and asked what she felt when with him. He didn't mean just sex, but he didn't have to clarify. She was quiet for a few seconds before stating she felt strong with him. As if she wasn't strong before--he wouldn't have wanted her if she weren't.

He caressed her smooth cheek and ran a thumb over her bottom lip. He would've leaned forward to kiss her, but he was content to let his touch be enough. He left his hand in the space between them, and she reached out to lace her fingers with his.

She told him about her earlier life, about night-vision goggles and living in a mouldering Star Destroyer. Through the Force, she let him see where she'd been. He saw her knocking a teedo off its ride for stealing her goggles and then drinking half of its water in retaliation. She had been a gangly, awkward thing then and full of resentment and loneliness.

She showed him the miscellaneous jobs she'd done to get by in the absence of her real family. There were long, dark nights of crossing the desert. He saw Lor San Tekka finding her syphoning water from his pump. Instead of chasing her off, Tekka had welcomed her. She felt good things towards the old man--like a grandfather she'd never had.

He kept his distaste to himself and tried to understand that she had been looking for a port in a storm. He could admit that Tekka _had_ been good to her, but had never filled that hole left in her life. Nothing would ever fill the family-shaped hole in her heart, just like no one would ever fill the hole in his.

He felt her remembered heat of the pyre before she brought up the tall flames for him to see. She had stood there--small and alone--for the hours it took for the bodies to be consumed. The heat and smoke had dried out her eyes. He could hear her think she hadn't minded at the time--it had felt like their heat was being branded into her.

After the ashes had been gathered, she had taken them to a nearby ravine. Handful by handful, she had let the heavy ash flow from her fingers and down the breezy natural causeway. She had pretended she could tell whose ashes were whose, but as an adult, she knew her parents and sister had mingled together. At the bottom of the basket, had been the charred remains of her family's bones. She had stared at them until dusk had almost abandoned the sky.

She had stumbled back to her empty house, basket dangling from her numb hand and covered in ash, and laid on the floor until dawn. Over the following days, she ate what had been left in the kitchen. Half of her village had been decimated by the sickness, so there was plenty to do, but no one would let her work. She had lingered between life and mourning until one of the elders had taken it upon herself to bathe his future apprentice. She had fought the whole way--screaming, kicking, and crying as warm water washed her family off her.

She had felt like she couldn't stay after that. It wasn't her home anymore. The house was empty yet filled with specters of recent suffering and long-gone laughter. She had snuck away in the middle of the night like a thief and never returned.

They both lay there in the hush of the hotel room before he offered up a bit of his own past. He showed her his mother and then his father. He used to pretend he'd just sprung up from the ground as though the Force had willed him into existence. He would never deny his family now even though they held no power over him.

He didn't mean to reveal so much about his upbringing, but it was difficult to keep his mind from following the events all the way to the end. From the poorly hidden fighting his parents had engaged in to his uncle taking him away to the academy. But now she knew that he was the son of Leia Organa and the nephew of Luke Skywalker.

When he had found out his mother had Force abilities, it had been like a revelation. It dawned on him that typical mothers didn't understand their children as well as Leia understood him. It explained why she was so good with politics--how she could find balance and compromise.

In his child brain, he had thought he could do the same. He could master the Force and use it to make everyone happy. His parents would stay together, and Uncle would be the best Jedi Master. He himself would go around the galaxy in the Falcon--his favorite ship of all time--and fix all the silly adult problems.

He gently pushed her out of his memories as he told her how naive he had been. After a contemplative moment, she asked if he had learned about Darth Vader through Luke. He told her that Leia had kept the fact from him while Luke had downplayed the connection, telling him that Vader had been evil. It became ironic to him that he saw what Anakin's own children did not: that Vader had been serving the galaxy by insuring no one suffered as he had.

She asked if Snoke had told him that. By her tone, he could tell she thought Snoke had lied to him. That didn't feel like the case to him, so he replied that Snoke had only ever confirmed what he knew to be true.

"But now you want to take him down," she half-questioned.

"I understand what Han told me, and he was right. It's either Snoke or me." Maybe months ago he wouldn't have considered it, but like she had said: Things change. She was with him now. There was something that went beyond the First Order.

He finished, "I choose me."

-

They woke up later than usual, but it hardly mattered. They weren't due anywhere until the next day. He ordered breakfast and then stated that they were going to do a little training. Other than the initial skirmish they'd had on Abafar, he hadn't really seen what she could do. Of course, they couldn't go all out in a hotel room, but he had a half-concocted solution for that.

She seemed if not eager then quite willing and got on actual clothes after breakfast. He explained what he would attempt: mentally creating a safe space for them, pulling her consciousness inside with him, and dueling there. They could actually go to the death since the space would be like a dream.

At least, that was the idea.

They sat in the middle of the room, on the floor, face to face with breathing synced. It was almost too easy to connect with her. He always struggled a little to get a reading on someone, but with their bond, it was simple.

Their breath was a bridge, and he easily crossed to her. He conjured up a gym from the _Finalizer_ and brought her inside. When she manifested, he explained where she was. She seemed more concerned about his energy than what he could do to her in this dream world. He dismissed her worry after pulling her lightsaber from her memory. Her training was more important than his power reserves.

When she finally came for him, he could see Yideth in her moves. Both women were graceful and lethal, but this was something different. She was anticipating his moves, just like he was reading her. It was almost seemed unfair to him that they could read each other so easily. However, the parries and attacks were smooth like a well-choreographed dance.

He began not holding back, letting each strike crash the plasma of his saber against hers. He could tell by her stance alone that she was tiring. He couldn't back down now and he wouldn't--no one else would for her.

With hardly any warning, she used the Force in a show of unpredictable agility and leapt for the mezzanine which ran the whole way around the gym. He tried to stop her, to freeze her midair, but she blocked him. He was almost incredulous as he watched her run along the edge of the mezzanine ledge, because pushing away his attack with the Force while using the Force to jump to such a height seemed impossible.

Before he could call her back, she used the bend in the railing to abruptly change direction and kicked off to soar in an arc towards him. He raised his lightsaber to block her when he felt the distinct push of the Force against him. It hit him high and threw him back. He landed on the gym floor with his saber raised for her as he tried to use the Force as a shield.

All his efforts barely slowed her down, and they ended up killing each other in clean blows. He got her saber through the neck while she was impaled through the chest. It felt so familiar as the gym dissolved around him. Had he dreamed this years before?

He heard his mother's voice trying to wake him. Was he on break from academy already? He couldn't remember anyone picking him up...

He blinked to let his eyes adjust to the bright light and realized this wasn't his childhood bedroom. He was on Coruscant in a hotel with his apprentice. But this wasn't what was suppose to happen, was it?

"Who's Ben?" his apprentice asked.

He swallowed around the lump in his throat and stood up. He needed to put a little distance between them. He walked to the bathroom and shut the door.

 _Who's Ben_ , she had asked. _How had she picked that up?_ He paced in the bathroom and missed the thunk of his boots against the tile. He would've liked to hear the rhythm of his steps to mark the seconds. Instead, he had bare feet and just the weak slap of the soles of his feet.

She must've heard Leia's voice, must've picked up that nightmares were so common that Leia had known what to do for him. He used to bury his face against her neck and rub his face in the comforting scent of his mother. She would croon to him soft words and hug him just as fiercely.

But that was a _weakness_. He was no crying child.

His eyes darted around the bathroom for something to tear in two. He wanted to smash something until it was nothing but tiny fragments. He needed to ruin something.

To destroy a thing is to have power over it, he recalled Snoke telling him before he had known the whisper was Snoke.

He stared at the bathroom door and could feel his apprentice beyond the barrier. She was soft and tender and easily--laughably--breakable. He'd never heard her scream in pain. And she knew more about him than anyone ever had. It was too much. He should crush her like a bug.

But he couldn't _destroy her_. He was her master.

He snarled as he turned from the door and sat down on the closed lid of the toilet. He held his head in his hands and silently cursed as he shook and felt as though a typhoon rampaged within. He could barely get enough air through the storm that felt like it would uproot everything that kept him civilized.

He sat there and fisted his hair until his scalp was sore. His ass was numb, and his neck ached. He shied away from the twisted thoughts he'd had earlier. He now couldn't imagine hurting his apprentice. She was precious. The thought of bruising her, making her fear him, turned his stomach.

He breathed through the nausea and then finger-combed back his hair. Fuck, what the hell was wrong with him? They were so close to victory, and some awful part of him wanted to wreck everything they had accomplished beyond repair.

He had to prove to himself and to her that he wasn't some stupid beast. He left the bathroom and went to the closet. He wanted to make it easy on her, so he didn't want to waste more time. He needed her onboard with his nebulous plan. He got out the roll of her cleaned clothes from Jakku.

He unfurled the bundle and told her he was going to present her to Snoke. She stared down at her clothes--her old life--and asked if this was because she knew his birth name. She actually used it, and it slipped so easy from her pouting mouth.

"Don't say that name," he whispered. She seemed to curl into herself though she hadn't moved. He continued, "It's the only way I can come back."

She asked about her training, why she had gone through it. She was losing her temper piece by piece. The darkness swarmed around her, buzzing like angry insects.

He explained that Yideth would have her lightsaber. She could call it to her when the time was right. Yideth wouldn't obstruct her.

She seemed dissatisfied with his plan. Her voice rose and she sneered as she looked up at him. "And what if I'm not alive for the signal, huh? What if he takes one look at me and knows that I'm a decoy?"

He pointed out that Snoke wanted the scavenger.

Her hands balled on her thighs. "What about Skywalker? You want him dead, Snoke wants him dead. If you come back with a lie, he'll surely kill us all."

He mentally sighed. "I'll tell him Skywalker scurried off like he did the first time."

She actually sighed. "So, the plan is to bring the 'scavenger' to him, tell him Skywalker got away again, and leave me with him?" Her voice rose as she went on.

He confirmed the plan with a shrug. It was as good as he could do with the resources available.

"That's a stupid plan! He'll see right through it!" she exclaimed.

He snapped, "Not if you don't kriff it up."

He knew immediately that had been the wrong thing to say if her narrowing eyes were any indication.

"Oh, so you think I'm the weakest part of this plan?! I'm the one who's gotten the Knights on your side by my sheer presence!" He wanted to contest that, since they must know that if they didn't show up, they'd lose their status as breathing, but he stayed quiet. She went on, "I've been working with a power I didn't even know I possessed until a few weeks ago." She slid off the bed and pointed a combative finger at him. "I've been kicking your ass when it comes down to it."

She was like every padawan learner he'd ever met. They were cocky with a puffed-up ego from drawing a good hand in life. The first time they had their ass handed back to them put them in their place.

"You may be skilled with a saber, but you are no match for Snoke's abilities," he aggressively pointed out.

With all contempt, she replied, "Don't you mean your abilities? The _mighty_ Kylo Ren. So much stronger than everyone else, so in tuned with the dark side; the crowning jewel of the First Order."

He warned her not to say another word. She surprised him by crossing her arms and looking away with a soft huff. Despite the power of the dark within her, she was frightened. Her lashing out wasn't exactly directed at him, but at the whole situation. He had started it all by taking her out of Tuanul, but he wouldn't let it end with her dying at Snoke's feet. He just wouldn't.

However, he didn't know how to ensure that. He sat down on the bed and rested his elbows on his knees. "I don't feel mighty," he confessed. "I feel stupid because I can't think of anything that doesn't put you in harm's way." He shook him head at himself. "I won't let him harm you."

She relaxed and told him that was a hollow promise.

"I know, but I want it to be true."

She approached him and seemed to want to reach out, but she held herself back. "Then we need to find a way to make me her," she offered.

He looked up at her and realized he was in the presence of pure inspiration.

Rey had been full of fear on Takodana and doubt in her abilities. It reminded him too much of his apprentice when he'd first found her. In this case, that could be a good thing. When dealing with Snoke, she very much felt like Rey. If she could use what he had seen from interrogating Rey as a screen, as a distraction, as a _decoy_ , they could both get close to Snoke.

All they had to do now was plan and trust each other.


	9. Of Lessons Learned, Of Bridges Burned

He stared into her eyes, knowing what he had to do, but not wanting to do it. He wondered if it was his own cowardice to use his apprentice as a decoy. Perhaps it would be better to come to Snoke as a failure and face his destiny.

He wanted to tell her he would protect her, but he knew he couldn't promise that. No one was safe here, and everyone knew it.

She nodded as though she understood or that she accepted his shortcomings. She was too good for this, he thought. Too good for him.

He studied her sweet face, the determined set of her mouth. He wanted to drag her back to the large storage hold where their belongings were in the Upsilon and have her one last time. She had been too nervous this morning, so he had simply held her and kissed her. Breakfast had been barely touched, and the ride to Ebra had been tense.

He could feel the shuttle swooping down through the moon's atmosphere to make the final approach to Snoke's current location. It was now or never. He followed his instincts and bent down to kiss her. She melted against him, kissing him back with equal fervor. He kept his hands above her waist, but all he wanted to do was grab her ass and haul her up.

He pulled away from her when there was a natural pause and whispered against her lips, _"Sleep."_

The Force flowed from him with intent and within seconds she was unconscious. It felt just like on Jakku as he cradled her in his arms. She was wearing those same clothes and her hair was the same. She didn't even have her lightsaber anymore since he had entrusted it with Yideth for safekeeping.

He should've lain her out on the unoccupied bench across the hold from him, but he couldn't bear to let her go. He sat down and held her limp body against his chest. Ginji briefly eyed them before turning away. Ginji didn't approve of the attachment, he sensed. Maybe Ginji was right, but it was too late for that.

Yideth landed the shuttle on what had once been a grand promenade in front of the domed, squat stupa. The ship powered down, and all was quiet for a minute before he tightened his grip on his apprentice and stood.

"Gear up," he ordered.

The Knights did a quick weapons check and got on their helmets as the ramp lowered with a hiss and a cloud of steam. He took one last deep breath and led the way down the promenade. The air was dry and the sky was an insipid gray. The weak light that filtered through the cloud cover was flat and cast almost no shadow. The weight of power hung like a miasma in the air. The only thing he thought was good about the satellite was that it wasn't cold.

No one came out to greet them, but he didn't think that a bad sign. It meant that Snoke was unprotected and possibly alone.

Surrounding the stupa was an enclosure wall which was crumbling from neglect. Guarding the main entrance of the wall were the figures of two cloaked Sith, carved of stone, features now weathered to near obscurity. He felt a frisson pass through him as he walked between them and into the stone court between the wall and the temple.

He could feel Snoke inside, waiting. Before he walked in, he turned to his Knights and told them to follow him in and guard the main entrance. He didn't want anyone else entering the building. They nodded as one and silently trailed behind him.

As he entered the vast space of the temple, he was greeted by Snoke's raspy voice from the dark:

"Kylo Ren."

He bowed as much as he was able with a limp body in his arms. "Master."

"I see you have precious cargo."

His eyes adjusted to the dimness inside as he lay her down beyond the single column of light coming from the oculus at the top of the dome. It provided watery light while the two large braziers on either side of the rotunda flickered with yellow flames.

He heard the swishing of Snoke's robes as his master approached and he straightened to his full height.

"Would you like me to wake her?" he asked as he turned to Snoke.

"Not yet. Tell me how you found her." Snoke stared down at her as he began to circle her like a hungry predator.

He could feel his master's keen interest. He ignored his own concern and kept to the matter at hand. He cleared his throat and said, "She was alone--working. Mundane chores, it seemed. I don't know where Skywalker was, but he wasn't planetside."

Snoke hummed in acknowledgement and shuffled away from her. He accompanied Snoke into the shadows. He thought about giving an excuse or apologizing, but Snoke held up his withered hand for him to remain quiet.

"You think she was abandoned," Snoke summed up.

"He could've been called away by the Resistance."

"A possibility." Snoke turned back to her. "Wake her."

He felt her out to find her already conscious. He didn't know how she'd done it, but it made things simpler--or made her more appealing to Snoke.

"Master, I believe she's already awake."

They looked over to see her already sitting up and taking in her surroundings. As he and Snoke approached her, she turned to them and gasped. Her eyes locked onto Snoke as she scooted back across the stone floor. She crab-walked through the stark column of light and back into the shadows.

She had assured him she would be terrified, and she did not disappoint.

However, she was not immobile from fear. She managed to get to her feet and give a quick glance at the Knights lined up near the entrance behind her. She was surrounded and weaponless. There was no escape now--for any of them.

Snoke began by reiterating what he had told him--that she was alone and abandoned. She didn't reply to him, but directed her snarl at Ren.

"No master should ever leave their padawan so vulnerable," Snoke continued.

He instantly thought about Snoke leaving him on Korriban without a lightsaber and in an oubliette. He understood it had been punishment and lesson, and Snoke had thought it necessary for various reasons. It didn't change the fact he himself had been _vulnerable_. However, he kept his resentment pushed down deep inside.

She reacted to Snoke's words with accusations, and he replied with recriminations. Snoke had never had much patience for arguing and put a halt to their quarrel. He yielded to Snoke until she dubbed Snoke as evil. He knew that before Starkiller he would've defended Snoke, so he did now and pushed her down to her knees with the Force.

She closed her eyes as if expecting another blow, but Snoke stepped up to her and touched her hair. After a few tense moments, she drew in a sharp breath and fell back from his touch. In reply, Snoke gathered up his power.

He knew something had gone wrong.

She was cloaked in darkness, the power of it hovered around her like an invisible fog.

Snoke growled down at her, " _You._ Who are you?"

She was confused as he until Snoke lifted her back to her knees via the Force. She fought Snoke's hold around her neck, but it seemed as though she was easily ignorable as he turned from her.

"Who have you brought to me?" Snoke asked him.

"The girl, the one--" Before he could finish, he was struck by Force-lightning. He heard nothing but her scream and then the deafening susurration of electricity. He could barely feel anything as the shocks of lightning consumed him.

It went beyond pain and heat and light to something greater than the physical. He didn't know how to fight something which had completely stolen his senses. He couldn't see as his vision had turned white. He couldn't feel his heart. He couldn't feel _anything_. He didn't even know if he was breathing anymore. All he knew for breathless eons was that the power flowed in undermining waves, and he could never seem to swim up to the surface of it before he was sucked under again.

And then, the tide of power was gone.

The pain hit him all at once, but he expected nothing less. His bones ached, his muscles screamed as he unclenched, and patches of his skin felt on fire. It was too difficult to focus his eyes as he tried to stand and fumbled. There was the awareness that he had failed at keeping his promise to her, and that two of his Knights were dead because of his orders.

He was a smoking ruin of a human.

He heard his apprentice's voice in his ear, but not her words. He asked if Snoke was dead. She said something else, and he thought she confirmed Snoke's death, and she then touched him. It felt like a relief and a comfort and a victory all rolled into one shambling revelation. His surroundings came into sharp focus as though he'd been dreaming through a smoky haze only to have the breeze of consciousness blow the fumes away. He looked up at her to see her splattered with dark blood.

She said something about burning, but he didn't get the gist of it. He wasn't burning, so he nodded to whatever she wanted. She could have _whatever_ she wanted. She looped one of his numb arms over her shoulders and helped him get vertical.

As he limped to Snoke's body, his hearing started to clear up. He heard clipped orders being given and quick footsteps. The remaining Knights paid the noise no mind as they followed him. He glanced over to see Hux pointing to one of the doorways beyond the pillars of the rotunda. He found that he actually didn't care what Hux did or what the First Order confiscated. None of it mattered to him.

He focused on Snoke's body to see it slashed open and the head was missing. The chest cavity was a burnt red horror of withered organs. He observed the still body of his former master and felt nothing about it.

It felt like Yideth leaned towards him, though he couldn't be sure she actually moved. "Master--"

"Don't call me that," he murmured. There was no Snoke, hence there was no Knights of Ren. At least, not to him.

He saw Yideth look around the circled group of them. She shook her head and stated, "You are Master of the Knights of Ren. Snoke didn't bestow that upon you, we all agreed that you were."

He sighed. It wasn't the time to argue about this. "Fine. Go on."

"Perril and Ginji have fallen."

He nodded because he knew. He didn't feel them pass, but he sensed the holes which they had left in the Force. His first instinct was to put them aboard his Upsilon and give them a proper funeral on the _Finalizer_ , but his thoughts turned to Hux.

He looked down at his apprentice to see her blood-splattered face, her gore-covered hands. A lightsaber wouldn't have had that kind of splash-back. However, a blastershot would. And Hux was a superb marksman--if his dossier was accurate.

"We will honor them here," he said. "Next to Supreme Leader."

"He's not going back with the First Order?" Kin Al asked.

"No, prepare the bodies," he replied. He could arrange things for Snoke while the Knights took care of their own.

They went to work with scouting a proper place to burn the bodies and stripping the dead of their weapons. It was decided that the stones beyond the enclosure wall at the back of the temple was a proper place for the pyres. One by one, they brought the dead out into the open, still air. The yellow lichen-covered rocks weren't warm enough to help with a fire, and there were no trees for as far as his eyes could see.

He didn't think the bodies would burn easily, and his apprentice agreed. He stopped a group of patrolling stormtroopers and ordered them to find some sort of accelerant. They surprisingly obeyed the order and disappeared inside the temple once more.

The stormtroopers came back with ancient glass jugs full of oil. He took one and carefully poured the oil over Snoke's reassembled body. Beside him, the stormtroopers did the same for Perril and Ginji. Once the jugs were empty, he dismissed the soldiers and turned to the Knights.

"I would like to provide the spark for Perril and Ginji," Yideth all but croaked.

"Of course," he agreed.

Together, they ignited their lightsabers and touched the soaked fabrics with their blades. The oil-soaked clothing caught with a soft whoosh. At first the flames were a translucent blue, but they quickly turned solid, golden, and hot. Everyone took a few steps back when the heat became too much.

He watched the flames engulf Snoke and ignored everyone around him. He ignored the tender heat of his lightning burns. He ignored the empty-gut feeling that the losses--even by his own hand--were somehow in vain.

He felt _nothing_. He was unmoved, unchanged, touched by nothing.

He heard voices--his apprentice, Hux, and then Baltek and Kin Al. They all spoke in hushed tones as if to not disturb the dead. He wanted to tell them to just speak in _normal_ tones because the dead didn't _care_ and neither did anyone else. There was nothing in the flames but _dead flesh_.

A gasp from his apprentice caught his attention. He turned to see what had startled her and stared down at the new black lightsaber in her hands. The blade was inky black like the space between stars and seemed to suck up the light. He'd never seen such a lightsaber before. She held up in front of her, and a pale trail of light, like an aura, followed the blade.

"What the hell is that?" Hux asked.

He thought it obvious and replied, "It's called a lightsaber."

Hux scoffed just as Yideth identified the blade:

"It's Darksaber."

His apprentice looked between Yideth and him and said, "I don't think I should have this."

Even if she didn't think she deserved it, and thought he did instead because it had been Snoke's, he didn't want it. His saber would always be red--like his history and his future.

Yideth said that his apprentice had killed its owner, that she had earned it. He liked the thought of her wielding two sabers, too. He could see her twisting and spinning, taking down her enemies with a grace and skill that the galaxy had not seen in ages.

She asked if he'd known about _this_ \--about the color of Snoke's saber. She shook the saber in his direction, and it gave a metallic whine in her hand. He told her he'd never seen it, and that Snoke had never used anything like it in front of him.

Hux sneered, "I wonder why."

He turned to Hux and almost snapped the asshole's neck. As if he would kill anyone over something as trivial as a lightsaber. Snoke had controlled him for most of his life and then wanted the first person who was _his_. Snoke would've taken everything and killed him in the most humiliating way possible.

Fuck Hux and what he thought. He knew nothing.

Kin Al's mellow voice broke through the tension as he told his apprentice to get her neck looked at. He took a visual assessment of her and was disgusted by his own self-involvement. She had rings of bruises coloring her entire neck, front and back.

Hux chimed in that there were medical supplies in the assault lander. She looked up at him and bargained that she'd go if he did. His injuries, if they could even be called that, were superficial. He didn't care about a couple of burns since they'd be healed in a few days' time.

Yet, what if something in her was seriously injured but hadn't manifested. He thought of blood clots giving her a stroke, or serious damage to her larynx that would have her never speaking again.

He knew she'd stay by his side and ignore her own body regardless of any discomfort. "So stubborn," he commented.

"Same could be said for you, you dweezer."

The mild insult had him remembering kissing her unblemished neck and chest on that first private morning. He didn't know why he was fighting it. He wanted to see her healed and he wanted to be the one to take care of her.

He offered his hand, and she took it to pull herself up. He ushered her through the deserted temple and to the promenade. There was an assault lander with crates of pillaged goods surrounding it. Lounging stormtroopers quickly scrambled to their feet to salute him and his apprentice. He brushed their formality away and told them to fetch a med kit.

One was quickly brought to him, and he popped it open to get a little bacta pod. He had her tilt her head back as far as she was able and coated her neck in the gel. Her bruises started to look less deep, but that didn't mean there couldn't be serious internal damage. She sighed at his touch, though, and it warmed him.

"When we return to the _Finalizer_ , you're going to the med bay," he enunciated as he finished.

She eloquently grunted in agreement.

He wiped his hands on his ruined trousers and then got his singed tunic off. His undershirt smelled like smoke and burnt hair, but it would cover him well enough until they got back to the _Finalizer_. He took that off too when she turned to see him still covered and gave him a dry look.

She had cleaned her hands in the meantime, and then began gently massaging the cool gel into the numerous burns over his torso and arms. The gel was honestly a relief he didn't know he needed. He stared ahead to focus out into the wasteland of the planet so the alleviation of the burns and her soothing touch didn't have him popping a boner like a kid.

She got open another pod and knelt on one knee in front of him to get to the burns on his legs. He felt her fingers push into the charred holes in his trousers to smear bacta on the hot blisters. He glanced down at the top of her head as she worked and wanted to yank her up. She shouldn't be kneeling in front of him as though she were a servant. She had faced Snoke and killed him when he couldn't. She was too good to be on her knees before him--before anyone.

She pointed out that several places seemed to have to been hit numerous times.

"That's part of any fight," he replied without looking at her.

He could feel her eyes on his face, and it would be rude to ignore her after all she'd done, so he met her gaze. She wanted to comfort him and seek comfort from him. She didn't care that they were surrounded by stormtroopers. However, he did. If he got his hands on her now, he'd never stop. He would have to carry her into the Upsilon and take her against one of the bulkheads.

But he couldn't do that to her. She was too good for that. She deserved better than a rough fuck in an Order shuttle.

He painted a smirk on his face and told her later. She beamed up at him in reply, and his heart strangely lurched.


	10. Everybody's Looking For Someone To Follow

He sat crosslegged in his private training room on the _Finalizer_ with his grandfather's helmet in his hands. It was a rare occurrence to reach out and touch the last powerful relic of Darth Vader. However, now it was one of those times which he needed to commune.

He could still smell the heavy smoke coming from the pyres of his Knights and Snoke even after his time in a bacta tank. He knew it was all in his head. However, it reminded him too much of grilled meat--greasy and sweet and smoky. It was a scent that lingered in his psyche.

His apprentice had seemed immune to the scent at the time. He thought she'd be reminded of her late family, but she had sat there and simply watched the flames. By the time they had come back from administering the minimum of medical attention between them, the bodies had become engulfed and unrecognizable through the fires.

She had been unaffected and calm and quiet. Conversations had crested and retreated like an ocean's waves. She had remained a serene center as she sat on a flat rock like an old master in repose. He had stood near and told the story of how he and Ginji had demolished a cave hide-out of a group of fleeing Resistance fighters.

It had been monsoon season for that part of the planet. Ginji had been sure his explosives wouldn't work under such stormy conditions. However, they had only one chance to get the fighters before they escaped the planet. The mission ended up a success with a cave collapse and neither of them worse for wear. He had finished the story by saying that a soaked Ginji had turned to him at the end, and then he stated in the flattest, most unimpressed Ginji-voice he could muster, "That's not what I meant."

The Knights had laughed because they'd only heard the tale from Ginji. And Ginji hadn't been a storyteller--not that he was either, but he had a different point of view of the whole mission.

His apprentice had smiled up at him, her face still smudged with Snoke's blood. And suddenly he felt weak. He hadn't shielded her from danger. He hadn't killed Snoke. He was only standing there next her because _she_ had saved him.

And then Hux had come back from checking in with the troopers still inside the temple. Another reminder of his utter failure. He was sure Hux would hold this incident over his head until... Well, _until_.

The bodies were more charred husks than actual bodies by that time. The fire had reached its half-life. A consensus was reached that the bones would be removed to one of the bigger urns inside the temple. From there, Yideth and Baltek briefly wandered away, chatting softly, while Kin Al and Jeckhum sat side by side to watch the fires.

He had felt compelled to stay and see the bodies rendered down to smoking bones. It was his fault two of his Knights were dead. He had given the order to keep anyone out. He hadn't given stipulations to that decree. He hadn't thought ahead to the possibility that anyone from the First Order could follow him or any of the Knights.

His apprentice had mentioned how he could be the next leader of the First Order. He had thought of Darth Vader then and actually walking the path his grandfather had paved. He now knew he was wholly unworthy of such a mantle. How could he be when he had easily been led astray? No, Skywalker's way wasn't for him, but now he wasn't sure if Snoke's was ever, either.

His unworthiness went beyond giving a temerarious order. It went deeper, spelling out his naivete and thoughtlessness. He found himself utterly blind and flailing in the half-light of ignorance. He had killed his father, and it had brought him nothing. It didn't balance out the siren song of the light. All the tests and lessons that Snoke had set before him had been for naught.

He was a different person, true, but he didn't think he was a stronger one.

He held the mangled helmet of his grandfather. It was cold and the durasteel was rough from being thoroughly burnt. If he concentrated enough, he thought he could hear the steady rhythm of Darth Vader's breathing.

He mentally pleaded with his grandfather, asking him for guidance, for a direction in which to go. _Everything is lost_ , he thought. _Except her._

He was met with silence.

He sat in stillness, looking for his usual focus, for that drive beyond vengeance. All he could see was Rey using his family's saber against him. Ignorant in every way when dealing with the Force, and still, Rey had cut him down.

Vengeance could redeem him. He could improve and train his apprentice, and in so doing, become better himself. Maybe everything was not lost, he realized.

He placed the helmet on the deck and pushed it away. The floor was just this side of too cool on the back of his legs and bare feet. He wanted his apprentice. He wanted her in his bed like he'd had on Coruscant, where they had stayed up talking. Perhaps she would have an idea of what they could do.

He snarled at himself and rested his elbows on his knees. He didn't think he could get much weaker than looking to someone who was supposed to be learning from him for guidance. If Hux ever figured out how stupid he was, and how much he was beginning to rely on her, Hux would use her against him.

And she must think him a fool. She was still recovering in the med bay. Before he had left, he requested her status. The doctor thought she'd be completely healed by the next cycle. He had left grateful that no permanent damage had occurred.

But that was his fault, too. She had gotten injured because he was too weak to deflect Snoke's lightning. He hadn't even had the mind to draw his lightsaber before being blasted across the temple. Overall, he was a terrible master, partner, and lover.

It was probably a good thing she had been given her own room. He had proven without a doubt that he had nothing to offer. She would do well with him being only one of her instructors. Perhaps over time, they could be together again--if she ever saw him as desirable.

He checked the chrono--it was deep into delta shift--and wondered if she had taken her birth control for the cycle. Had anyone gone through her duffle to find the tin? Would anyone look out for her like he did? Could anyone love her like he could?

He scoffed at himself when he realized what he'd just thought. How stupid. _Love._ Of all the things he could feel for her, he had lapsed into love. Gripping, clawing, needful love. Not only could he add dominicide to his repertoire, love-sick should accompany it.

He cursed and stood.

His commander override got him into her assigned room easily enough. Her duffle was waiting just inside the door, and he almost tripped over it. He huffed and nudged the large bag over so he cleared the door.

He ordered the lights to 100 percent and saw that she had a decent room with its own refresher. There was no private bedroom space--which he used as a training room--but it would do nicely for sleeping and down time. The single bed on its wall shelf was already made up with fresh linens and a plump pillow. He checked the refresher to see it clean and ready. Overall, it would do--for now.

He went back to the duffle and rummaged through its contents to find her toiletries bag. The tin was still there, so he pocketed it. After that, he rearranged her belongings, tucking her lightsabers between layers of clothes. It was actually a surprise to see them. Surely, security must've scanned the bag. The only explanation was that Hux had allowed her to keep her weapons despite her not being of the First Order or of the Knights of Ren. It was quite a gamble on Hux's part.

He closed the duffle and slid it under her bed so she wouldn't almost trip over it like he had. He bid the lights back to zero and left the room. In his undershirt, trousers, and bare feet, he walked the clean, quiet halls of the _Finalizer_. The aftermath of Starkiller Base had apparently led to a lax in the rigid structure of the Order. No one paid him any mind as he made his way down to the med bay.

The med-droid which greeted him when he entered the ward addressed him with the usual title and inquired his business. He hesitated for a moment, caught in indecision. Did he want to see her? A part of him did.

"How is my apprentice?" he asked the droid before deciding whether he should or not.

"Asleep, sir. Her healing is faster than anticipated."

He nodded, offered up the tin, and explained what it was. It was best he not disturb her. She needed her rest, and he didn't need to see her to know that she was safe.

As it took the tin, the droid replied that it would make sure that a pill was administered in the next few hours. He didn't like the terminology of that statement at all.

"No, put the tin by her bed with a glass of water. She can take it on her own."

"Sir, that's not protocol. A nurse or myself can offer a pill to the patient. We need to document when any medication is dispensed and ingested."

"I am responsible for her, and she is under my protection. You will follow my orders."

The droid gave a jerky nod and acquiesced. He sighed to himself and almost demanded she be immediately moved to her rooms so he could watch over her in private. However, he knew that was unreasonable. It wasn't going to help her heal, either.

He looked around the general reception area one last time before stomping out of the med bay. He reassured himself that if they disobeyed, he'd come back and destroy them all. Hopefully, they knew it, too.

-

He made it to the conference room right before 1300. The timestamp on the debriefing notice from Hux had come before the end of alpha shift at 0600. He had debated about ignoring it, but the notice had only been sent to himself, his apprentice, and the Knights.

It was obvious to him Hux wanted to discuss what had happened with Snoke. He was surprised that the control freak didn't want a meeting as soon as everyone had been assigned quarters. Of course, he'd have had to conduct it in the med bay--which would've been improper use of the med bay.

As the door to the conference room closed behind him, he observed that the Knights, his apprentice, and Hux were already waiting. His apprentice--finally in her battle gear--gave him an indifferent glance before sitting down. He sensed she was displeased with him. There was an open chair between her and Jeckhum, but he chose to stay standing behind it--if only because Hux, too, remained on his feet.

Hux started out predictably by stating that Snoke's death was known and that his state funeral would be held later that day. It was going to be recorded for posterity's sake, Hux said, and he stiffened at that. Recorded meant archived which meant eventually broadcasted in the future.

He wanted no part of that and said as much.

Hux dismissed him by saying there was a replica of his old helmet to conceal his features. He had received no morning deliveries of such a helmet. Hux informed him it wasn't ready since Hux hadn't known if he would survive the confrontation with Snoke.

He could hear that Hux was mildly surprised and secretly disappointed. That was no shock there. Hux had never approved of him despite never turning a blind eye to him. Hux was always very much aware of him whenever he was near or simply stationed at the same location. At first, he had thought it fear, but it was a different sort of scrutiny.

His apprentice interjected with a question as to how Hux had known they were with Snoke. He watched as Hux attempted to center himself before saying that there was a tracker in Ren's belt. His hearing went fuzzy as it dawned on him that Hux had known he had been on Abafar, Coruscant for cycles, and Ebra. Hux had had every opportunity to reach out, but hadn't.

And that's how Hux had found him so quickly before Starkiller had imploded. At the time, he hadn't questioned it. He hadn't even thought to question it.

He fell back into the conversation when Baltek spoke up about Hux taking over the duties of supreme leader. Oh, he knew that Hux's ambitions were greater than that and he stated as much.

There was far-fetched talk of Hux being emperor and of the Knights potentially killing for him. He knew without a doubt that the Knights would never blindly follow Hux. The Knights were _his_ \--even if he now thought himself unworthy of the honor.

The truth finally came out: an assembly of Order commanders was scheduled. Hux needed the symbolic--and maybe literal--muscle that only the Knights could provide because they were to elect a new leader, a grand admiral.

He jeered, " _Grand Admiral Hux_ does have a nice ring to it."

Hux almost looked pleased as he breezily agreed, "And a grand admiral will need a consort."

He could see what Hux meant. Hux wanted her dressed in finery with an invisible leash around her neck. Hux wanted to take hold of a power which only a few ever had the privilege of experiencing. Seeing her as she truly was--ready for battle with a lightsaber at her waist--only reinforced Hux's aspirations.

He'd had enough. He met Hux's desperate ambitions with the Force. He pushed him back against the wall as he assured Hux in no uncertain terms that his apprentice would never be Hux's. As he rounded the table, Hux hissed that they had killed Snoke without him. Hux tried to reason that she could be the connection between him and the Knights.

He wasn't buying it. How he wished to fist Hux's heart from the inside.

His apprentice pointed out that she knew nothing of politics.

Forever wanting the last word, Hux replied, "And neither does Ren, but look how far he's come."

He flattened Hux further against the wall next to the room's holoscreen in retaliation.

The next to voice a concern was Kin Al and he said that Ren had gotten in with the First Order because his abilities were like Snoke's. He wasn't exactly wrong. Snoke had had a plan for him from the beginning, he realized that now. Most of those plans had coincided with his own desires until the events which led to the destruction of Starkiller Base had changed everything.

Hux replied with logic, stating that he did not have the Force, but he needed someone who did who would look like they were under his control.

He could feel her outrage at that. She didn't want to be controlled or even to give the illusion that she was. She spat at him, "So, I go from being Lord Ren's _pet_ to yours."

He took a sharp breath at the use of the word _pet_ because it echoed in Hux like a throbbing hunger. _Pet pet pet._ He loomed over Hux, using the scant few inches he had in height over Hux to get him to reconsider everything. He reached between Hux's ribs, making it difficult for him to catch his breath.

Yideth asked what would happen if Hux didn't get elected as grand admiral. His apprentice replied for Hux, stating that Hux would kill the commanders.

Jeckhum murmured something, but he didn't catch it.

He invisibly pushed against Hux's lungs, making it harder to breathe. If Hux didn't have such a loyal following of the First Order, he would've crushed his greedy, pathetic heart by now. How dare he presume he was entitled to anything the Knights of Ren could provide. How dare he think he could lay his weaselly little hands on her.

His apprentice's voice stopped him as she asked when Hux needed an answer from her. He looked to her and almost couldn't believe his ears. She glanced at him and then returned her focus on Hux.

Hux wheezed out, "Five cycles."

She nodded more to herself than to Hux and rushed from the room. He called her back, but she ignored him as she let the conference room door close behind her. He released Hux completely and was satisfied to see Hux slump against the wall.

"This isn't over--no matter her decision," he growled and then leaned in close enough to smell Hux's crisp cologne. "You'll never have her the way I do. Remember that."

"I can give her everything you can't," Hux croaked. He meant title and privilege--a golden cage from which to sing. Maybe in time, Hux thought, she grow fond of him. She could stand to Hux's left while Ren was at his right. Two beautiful dark Jedi at his beck and call.

It was too low a position for either of them.

He grasped Hux's sharp jaw, his fingers digging into the smooth hollows of his cheeks, and studied his luminous blue eyes. "But not what she needs, General."

Before Hux could say anything, he let go and followed his apprentice. He knew she was storming her way back to her room. It felt like she was purposefully blocking him out with a smokescreen of disjointed emotions and pieces of what Hux had said.

He caught up with her on the foot bridge leading into the officers barracks. He stopped her with a hand on her arm and turned her to face him. She wouldn't meet his eyes for more than a second. Where once she had been forthright with him, she was now cagey.

"You're closed off from me," he softly pointed out.

"You sent me away."

She thought _he'd_ sent her away. It implied that she didn't want distance. It also implied that she didn't resent him for being so useless against Snoke. However, that didn't change the fact that it hadn't been his decision to put her in separate quarters.

"That wasn't my decision," he explained.

She licked her bottom lip, and he tried not to stare at her mouth. She stepped closer to him and touched him back and asked him where he had been last night. It wasn't location she was talking about because she knew exactly where he had physically been.

"I was in deep meditation."

She told him she hadn't been able to feel him. He looked around to see the passageways deserted, but this wasn't a conversation he wanted to have in public. And he certainly didn't want to pull her against his body and tell her where his thoughts had lingered before falling into an uneasy sleep last night.

"My quarters," he said and led the way to his rooms.

As the door to his room slid closed, he remembered that he'd left out his grandfather's helmet. She must've felt the pull of it because she walked to it as though in a trance. She reached for it, but he stopped her with hand on her wrist. He didn't know what sort of reaction she would have. Like the mask Snoke had him retrieve before Korriban, Vader's could invoke something she wouldn't be prepared for.

She asked what the helmet was, and he told her it was an artifact he used to focus. It was true enough. She searched his face before asking whose it was. He was tempted to say his because he had recovered it from an ignorant merchant selling scavenged imperial goods, but that wasn't what she meant.

He told her it was his grandfather's, and she instantly recoiled from the burnt helmet. He then mentioned that he had claimed it from the Empire.

She scrutinized the helmet and said, "You kept it hidden when I stayed here the first time."

"I didn't..." _Want you to see it because you weren't ready. I didn't trust you._ "I didn't think you'd understand."

She gnawed her lip and then asked why he needed it. He saw no reason to lie or obfuscate the truth, so he told her the memory of his grandfather centered him.

She stepped closer to the ash-pit table, which held the helmet, and reached out once more. This time, he let her because she should feel the true power of the dark side. She needed to know his birthright and what he strove for.

She didn't make a sound when she made contact. He came up behind her and looked over her shoulder to see her graceful hand on the cool metal of Darth Vader's helmet. She wasn't scared of what she saw.

"Do you ever wonder how powerful you could be on the other side?" she softly inquired.

He knew what it meant to be solely on the side of the light. He told her how stagnant and weak it was. One side was hardly half of what the Force actually was. The Force wasn't an old-fashioned coin which could be flipped at one's whim. The Force was sheer power and only those with fortitude fully utilized it by disregarding old rules which limited those attuned.

He wanted to touch her and reaffirm their bond--a bond which would be taboo on the light side. She stopped him by pointing out:

"But it's got love, doesn't it?"

He wanted to disprove her rhetorical question by telling her what he recognized as love for her within himself. Instead he said, "It lacks passion, the ability for singular love. It's neutered and cauterized. There is no power. Their peace is false."

Any internal peace which could be disturbed by attachment was no peace at all. And if all of that were true, and it felt like it was to him, why had Snoke been so adamant about killing Han Solo? The act itself had not made him stronger. In fact, it seemed to have done the opposite if the newest scars on his body were any indication.

She faced him, knocking him out of his thoughts. She was close enough that if he wanted, he could lean down and kiss her.

"Is the peace you find in meditation false, then?" she asked.

He replied that he sought out focus in meditation, not peace. She offered her point of view by stating she liked dropping her thoughts to find balance. He had nothing to offer in return, but he liked her balance. She was steady and smart and so beautiful.

He wanted to kiss her, put his hands on her waist, take her to bed until they had to leave for Snoke's funeral. However, he figured she wouldn't want it yet, but he could lay the groundwork for it.

It felt natural to apologize for not waking her before leaving the med bay last night. She seemed to like his acknowledging his own missteps if her smirk was anything to go by.

"Did you miss me?" she teased.

He honestly replied, "Very much so."

Her smirk faded into stunned silence. Had no one ever admitted to missing her? He found that very difficult to believe. She was easy to be around.

Easy to love.

She reached up and slid her hands over his shoulders to pull him into an embrace. He ducked into it like a shy child. She felt right against him as he wrapped his arms around her and tucked his face against her soft neck. She smelled so good.

"How can you stand to be with me?" bumbled out of his mouth.

Her hands clutched at him as she asked what he meant. He admitted to being weak and unwise. He confessed to being tempted. In response, she fingercombed his hair, twirling a lock around her fingers.

Then she asked, "Ever thought of giving in?"

It was a shock for it to be offered like choice. Just... Go back. After all he'd done and seen and destroyed. How could he ever return? Did he even want that--to adhere to a code he didn't wholeheartedly agree with?

"To the light?" he clarified. "I don't--"

He didn't know how to finish his sentence, so he let it go.

After a beat, she murmured against his temple, "If you fight it all the time, you can't be your best, right?"

But his best wasn't with the light. He knew that and he didn't doubt himself. He straightened up and was about to tell her so when someone requested entry. He answered the summons to see an officer holding his new helmet.

It looked exactly like the old one except without the evidence of wear and battle. He quickly thanked the officer and closed the door. He didn't want any more interaction with those that made it than necessary. If Hux said it was made to the same specs as the first one, he was sure he could figure out how to wear it.

His apprentice seemed to sour at the delivery. He glanced at her before putting it on and closing the latch over his chin. It was an unsettling comfort to mask his face once more. No one could see his scar or his homely face. He was unshakable and inhuman again--the Master of the Knights of Ren.

_A creature in a mask._

She frowned and called him a bucket-head. He almost laughed at the insult until she told him she was going to her room. She walked past him, heading for the door, until he called her back. His voice sounded right to him through the vocoder.

She stopped and turned for that filtered voice, and a secret thrill went through him at her obedience. He ignored the base urge to order her again and got out the old cowl from his closet. He brought it to her and told her to wear it during the funeral. It was probably wide enough to obscure most of her face.

She took the long length of fabric, and he couldn't tell if she recognized it. Without protest, she draped the fabric over her head and tucked it over her shoulders. He assisted and tweaked the folds until they sat just right.

She looked dangerous, powerful, elegant and wise. She looked like she belonged with the Knights. Right then, he knew his love was not misplaced.


	11. Everybody's Looking For A Reason To Live

"Yes, General?" he acknowledged Hux after letting him stew for a few seconds.

He had been wanting to speak to his apprentice alone since before they had entered the decorated hangar for Snoke's state funeral. Now he was standing with her in the passageway behind the decorated hangar after the ceremony. He had wanted to tell her she had done well and maybe convince her to have dinner with him. From there, he would see if she wanted more than just a meal.

Instead, there was Hux clearing his throat and getting in the way.

"I would like to offer an invitation for dinner." Hux was so formal in his stupid hat which covered his ridiculous hair. "Just the two of you," he clarified.

Before he could decline the _oh so generous_ offer, his apprentice spoke:

"It would be an honor, sir."

Hux practically clicked his heels as he gave a curt nod and told them he'd be expecting them at 1900.

He turned back to her and asked why she had accepted once Hux was out of earshot. She didn't have to do anything with Hux--even if she wanted to be his consort. The very thought seemed laughable, and not because she wouldn't be glorious. She could be quick-witted and enchanting and just what Hux needed to smooth out his frigid nature. However, he knew that Hux wanted more than a charming dinner companion.

"Why didn't you?" she returned.

As if he wanted to spend anymore time than necessary with Hux. The snide little beanpole had nothing of interest to him, and he had seen all that he needed years ago.

"He only wants one thing from you." _Which is to take you from me._

She snorted at his reply and said, "He wants power. We can work with that, can't we?"

He grit his teeth behind his mask. "I will not tango with him for control."

She asked what he wanted control over--her, the First Order, the galaxy. He was tired of justifying himself to his apt pupil. Why couldn't she just listen to him without questioning every move?

"All of it," he declared.

Her eyes seemed to flash in the light of the passageway, and she stepped up to him. She got as in his face as she could, absolutely fearless, and murmured, "Let's get one thing straight, _Lord Ren_ , you will not control me. You may be my teacher, but you don't own me."

He hissed back, "But you're mine."

She bared her teeth. "Your _lover_ , not your _possession_. Get it right." She turned from him then and walked away, apparently not caring that he could pull her back and embarrass her by reprimanding her. Of course, he wouldn't do it. Her dismissal of him as a potential threat reminded him that he could permanently push her away--and into Hux's arms--if he upset her too much.

He followed a couple of paces behind her. The hood of the cowl hung from her shoulders, a crude thing compared to her refined clothing. He focused on the belt cinched at her waist, revealing the sublime curves of her body. A pang--whether from lust or longing, he couldn't say--tighten in his gut.

He thought at her, 'You haven't felt much like a lover recently.'

She stopped in the deserted passageway and turned to him. "It's only been a day!"

He admitted out loud that it felt longer.

"And whose fault is that, huh?" she pointedly asked. "You left me in the med bay."

"That was wrong, and I apologized for it." He took a few steps closer to her. "Allow me to make it up to you."

She glanced away as she gnawed on her bottom lip. He took that as a good sign since she hadn't full-out rejected his offer. Because he would make it up to her. He knew he could make her forget everything bad. He could give her satisfaction and please her.

Her thoughts were aligned with his when she stated, "We don't have time for that right now."

He wanted to ask whose fault _that_ was, but he kept his mouth shut. Instead he offered her the option of staying with him that night.

She nodded towards the turbolift and bid him to follow her. The ride to the barracks was a silent one, and he secretly watched her through the visor of his helmet. He studied the slope of her nose, the pout of her mouth. He thought of kissing her lips until they were puffy and tender and flushed.

The lift announced their floor before he could continue further down the path of lustful thoughts. He escorted her down the hall to his door and let her inside. As he got the lights to acceptable levels, he remembered that the double bed had been broken down. He had slept on the single mattress on the wall platform last night. The other mattress had been tucked away under the platform with extra linens folded on top.

She didn't seem to notice or care as he finally got off his helmet and tossed it onto the lone bed. She watched him with unflinching eyes as he came for her. He backed her against the armchair and unwound the cowl from her shoulders, tossing it onto the seat of the chair.

He cradled her lovely face in his hands and bent down to kiss her. Her hands clung to his waist right above his belt as she tilted her head for the perfect angle. It felt like it had been so long, and he talked himself out of tugging at her belt to get her robes open.

All he wanted to do was pick her up and press her to the nearest sturdy surface to have his way with her. He wanted to feel her strong legs around him as he got his cock inside her. He didn't even want to wait to fully undress. He'd tear at her leggings and panties. He'd buy her new ones, better ones, anything she wanted.

She leaned back and whispered, "Later."

"Everything."

"Anything," she offered with a sincere nod.

He looked at her mouth and then back at her emotive eyes. "So stupid," he said more to himself than her. "I could've had you next to me this whole time."

"Very stupid," she lightly agreed.

"The stupidest."

She smiled, and his heart did that lurching thing again. She said, "Kiss me, stupid."

He dove in for more, getting his arms around her. She pulled them tightly together and got a hand on his ass as she slid her tongue against his. She squeezed him through his thick clothing, and he couldn't help pushing his burgeoning erection against her belly.

On and on it went, ungloved hands mostly above the waist and outside of the clothing. He hadn't simply made out with anyone in years. He'd forgotten how good it could be to put sex off and just kiss. And he liked kissing her and touching her.

He was tempted to distract her until it was too late to leave for Hux's quarters at an appropriate time. He knew that would only piss her off and make the rest of the night unpleasant. Also, it would be stupid on his part, and would make Hux work that much harder for her.

However, she pulled away with enough time to clean up and make it to Hux's just after 1900. She neatened her hair and outfit. She found a pack of standard cooling wipes under the refresher vanity and used one to alleviate her kiss-swollen lips and flushed cheeks. He didn't bother to hide what he did with her and just fingercombed his hair away from his face. Let Hux see how much she wanted him.

Hux said nothing about their appearance when he let them in, but Hux mentally declared him unseemly, distasteful, _obscene_. She didn't seem to notice Hux's utter distain for his ravished appearance. He kept mostly to the background, letting Hux and her talk. Hux asked after simple things--how she liked her quarters and if she'd been shown different sectors of the _Finalizer_.

There was good wine and appetizers. It seemed like Hux had installed his human programming for the day. He then remembered how Hux had looked completely undone before he'd left to finish his training. He recalled how this very room had been in shambles with broken transparisteel covering the floor.

He took a sip of wine and thought how proud Hux must be of putting Snoke to rest and offering his own _generous_ services as the new leader of the First Order. First, this military organization, then the remaining Republic government, and finally, the galaxy.

She didn't pick up on the turn in his mood, and he didn't want her to. He could be civil when he wanted and he proved it. It seemed to throw Hux off when he was generous with his apprentice or allowed Hux to make a point or be clever. Somehow, being polite had become a weapon against his co-commander.

The appetizer and main courses went by quickly playing his secret game of _Unnerve Hux_. It was ironic that Hux responded so well to it and didn't realize what he was doing. Hux kept glancing at him, his eyes darting away when he thought Ren had caught him. Like he wasn't already aware of everything going on in the room.

Then the dessert course came and something changed. He could feel it coming like a shift in the weather. He picked at his creme brulee--something he would've done anyway since it was not to his taste. The crunchy burnt sugar with a little custard was nice, but a full spoonful of gelatinous sweetened milk wasn't appealing.

In the most conversational tone, Hux said, "You two have an interesting dynamic."

She placed her spoon down on the little plate under the ramekin. She looked across the table to him for guidance. He knew how to handle Hux despite what Hux might think.

"How so?" he inquired as casual as he could and then took a sip of his caf.

Hux dropped the bomb that he'd viewed the detention center footage. She tensed and placed her hands at the edge of the table to steady herself. He wasn't surprised since he knew that every cell down there was monitored. He had wanted Hux to see who he had found and how desirable she was.

Hux looked between him and her before continuing, "I thought one of you would be dead by now."

As though he would ever raise a hand to her. He took care of who and what was his. Yes, he had destroyed consoles and computers and choked a lieutenant before. He didn't care for those petty things or people. They weren't his and they meant nothing compared to her and his Knights.

"Why would I want to kill her?" he asked.

Hux corrected, "No, I don't think you want her dead." Hux turned his full attention to her and concluded, "I'm wondering why you don't."

She hesitated for second before responding. "Things change."

"Strange you say that, because I don't think people do," Hux said before scooping up a little more custard.

She asked if Hux actually thought she would kill her master.

To him, she'd never felt homicidal. He thought Hux was trying to get a rise out of her. Perhaps he should put his foot down and end the conversation, but Hux needed to get this out of his system. And if Hux pissed her off, so much the better.

Hux swallowed his bite of custard before replying, and he watched Hux's throat bob. "No, I'm saying that I think your objective has never changed."

He wanted to roll his eyes. "Is that why you invited us here? To figure out our objectives?" he asked.

"Just hers," Hux replied.

Before he could state how ridiculous this whole dinner was, his apprentice cleared her throat. He watched from across the table as she gathered herself.

"I am not loyal to the First Order and never will be, that's true." She took a breath. "I'm not a Knight, either, and won't be. I am... I am what I have to be." She looked down at her half-eaten creme brulee as if she regretted her words.

Did she expect to be punished for telling the truth before him and Hux? Stars, if Hux even hinted at a threat, he'd kill him. Granted, he didn't like what she had said, simply because now Hux knew the truth, but he had to respect it.

Hux asked what she had to be, and she looked up to respond with:

"A survivor, I suppose."

A cool agreement was what Hux gave, and something about his reply stole her voice. She took a drink of her caf to cover her lack of reply. She carefully set her cup down and said, "I do want Lord Ren to pay for destroying my life on Jakku, that's true. However, I don't think I need to be the one to do it."

He said her name to keep her from revealing more. Any crack would be exploited by Hux. Didn't she sense that?

She shook her head and put her linen napkin over her used utensils. "No, Kylo, it was wrong. Killing Lor San Tekka was wrong, and I haven't forgotten it."

Nor forgiven it, he mentally tacked on. He knew he had done the right thing on Jakku. Tekka had given the Resistance information. Tekka had been the anchor which kept her on Jakku. With Tekka eliminated, he punished the traitor and liberated her. One day, he would make her recognize that.

He could feel Hux's eyes on him, assessing him, but he stayed stoic.

She went on, "But if you think I'll betray him, General, you're going to be disappointed."

The conversation went on with him numb to it. Somehow, he had inspired a strange sort of loyalty in her. He didn't know what he had done or said. The Force had shown him her years before, and he had accepted that she could fight at his side or be the end of him. He had always resigned himself to not knowing, but her words were either a lie and a convincing ruse or she had revealed her true intentions. If she were his death, he knew what he'd have to do, but her double-edged words were sweeter than he expected.

Her saying his name brought him back into the conversation. Hux delicately dabbed at his mouth before stating he didn't know what she meant.

Her lip barely curled in contempt before she asked, "Do you want me to _fuck_ you like I fuck Lord Ren?"

The flash of her naked skin, a pale, long-fingered hand cupping one of her breasts, her flushed mouth open in almost painful ecstasy, the wet sounds of their bodies clashing blazed across his consciousness.

He stood so quickly that his chair almost teetered over. He pulled Hux back from the table with the Force and wished to crush him against the aluminium frame. He stomped over to Hux and felt him tense like a frightened rabbit.

"You do. You arrogant--"

She cut him off with his name now. He glanced at her and saw that she wasn't even surprised. She was focused on Hux, and Hux's thoughts went fuzzy when he met her eyes. The power rolling off her, having Hux in her thrall, thrilled him in a way he hadn't felt since he made his current lightsaber.

She rose from her seat and approached them. "The consort position is not just in name only, then." She looked down at Hux and tilted his face up. "You liar," she purred. "Maybe you'd like me to be your concubine instead? Lord Ren your right hand and lover."

He felt the truth of it before his rationality caught up. All this time Hux had ambitions with him in mind. He'd thought of fucking Hux into submission before, that's true. And Hux was attractive in that refined imperial stock sort of way. He'd never thought Hux would want him back beyond a quick fuck or two to relieve some tension.

"He is the best," she commented to him over Hux's head.

He watched her throw a leg over Hux's lap and slide down to settle on his thighs. He looked at the two of them and realized they _were_ the best. Hux had been made a general at thirty--practically unheard of. Hux was powerful and controlled and contained. And his apprentice had survived alone on Jakku for years. She was resourceful, capable, and ruthless.

She pointed out to Hux, "And you only like the best, the strongest, too, don't you, sir?"

Hux silently answered by placing his hands on the flare of her hips and pulling her against him. She leaned back, spreading herself before them. Her body arched beautifully and her face was relaxed. She looked up at him as if Hux wasn't there.

'This is the way forward,' she silently said to him. With Hux in their bed, under their control, anything was possible.

So, the game went from unnerving Hux to seducing him.

He bent forward and let his lips just brush the rim of Hux's ear as he whispered, "The three of us together, just imagine it."

And he knew Hux could. Hux had such fantasies--fantasies of the long-denied and touch-starved.

Hux skimmed his hand up the center of her bowed torso to above her breasts. He used his hands to pull her tightly against him, and she sighed in response. Hux was tempted, _so tempted_ , by them.

"We could conquer the galaxy, Hux," he murmured and kissed the smooth skin below his ear. He could tell that Hux was fresh from the sonic and groomed to perfection. He smelled crisp like evergreens, and the amber of his cologne was mellow.

He stayed close and let Hux feel his breath against the moisture his kiss had left behind. In the meantime, she sat up and asked Hux how many times he'd watched the footage from her cell. Hux confessed to watching it too many times, and he could feel that the footage was always a jumping off point for his fantasies. Hux wanted to watch him fuck her, bend her over the cell's shelfbed. Hux wanted to see Ren's hard cock pumping into her until she cried from pleasure.

Hux wanted her alone. He wanted to undress her and thrust his cock between her tits until he came all over her chest and throat. Hux thought about keeping eye contact with her as he did it. He thought about both their hands pushing her breasts together. He wanted to pull her up by her chin after he'd finished and then kiss her while he groped her. Hux was almost ashamed of wanting to finger her ass until she was wiggling in his arms and pushing back for more.

While he didn't like Hux thinking about cornering her, he could see that it didn't offend her. He might take it out on his co-commander later, but for now he focused on her. He met her eyes over Hux's shoulder and gave her a pleased look. They could work with Hux's fantasies.

She concentrated on Hux, and Hux shuddered in reply. Hux's breath sped up and his body tightened like coil. He didn't catch what she'd done, but he knew that it had been good. The feedback from Hux alone made his cock half-hard. She told Hux again to imagine the three of them and then leaned forward to kiss him.

He watched her taste Hux's full lips and he should hate it because she was his alone. Honestly though, he couldn't blame Hux for wanting her or even giving in. He wouldn't have lasted half as long if she were straddling him. And he liked watching her work from this side of things.

She made a little noise when Hux brushed over her breast, and Hux broke the kiss like he'd been shocked. He could tell Hux hadn't meant for the situation to go like it had. Things had been taken beyond Hux's control, he sensed. Hux wanted it too much-- _too eager, too hungry_ \--and let it go too far.

She ducked her head and eased off Hux as gracefully as she could. He came around and offered his hand once she was standing, and she grasped his hand.

He told Hux they'd leave him so he might continue his evening, and his apprentice thanked him for dinner. He ushered them out of Hux's suite as discreetly and calmly as he could. As he walked to the lifts, he tried to will his dick soft to no avail.

She asked him if he had known about Hux's dirty little fantasies, and he replied that he hadn't given much attention to Hux's inner life. Which was true because Hux was usually so boring and reading him from a distance was too much trouble.

She pointed out that Hux wanted him, and he replied that Hux wanted her. _Stars_ , how Hux wanted her. Hux had _just_ waited until the door had slid shut before slumping in his chair and unzipping his trousers. He was already palming his balls and tugging at his dick, spreading the precome down and around.

"What do you want to do about it?" she asked.

He could hear in the back of his mind Hux's whispered curses.

"Break his kriffing neck," he growled and pushed the call button for the lift.

She got in front of him and asked why. It felt stupid to point out that Hux was jacking off to her, but he did it anyway. She laughed--maybe at Hux, maybe at him. He shouldn't be so aggravated with the situation. He could've put a stop to it, but he hadn't. He had been curious--turned on by the very thought, even. And he wanted to be angry at her, but all he could think about was her controlling Hux and that little mewl she'd let out.

"Let me guess," she hazarded. "I'm riding him while your kiss him."

The turbolift car arrived before he could say anything. As he stepped into the lift, he concentrated on Hux. She followed and pressed the button for their level. He watched her as she turned back to him and encouraged him to tell her.

He stalked her into the far corner of the lift and described Hux's fantasy. "We're taking turns fucking you." He pressed his lower half firmly against her, his feet on either side of hers, as he was nearly blinded by Hux's desire. A few of the details Hux had wrong about her body--her breasts were better, ass rounder, arms stronger--but he had made a good guess.

But what they were doing with her was rough and domineering. She was bent over the edge of an indistinct bed with messy sheets. Hux was watching him hold her down with one hand on her neck and the other on her hip, giving a few rough thrusts and telling her what a perfect girl she was. He pulled out and gave her ass a firm slap before moving aside so Hux could have his turn.

"Taking turns fucking that sweet pussy of yours." The first slide of Hux's cock inside her was nothing short of perfect. "You're so wet, so hot." She shoved her ass back against Hux's groin with a hungry groan. Hux's hands latched onto her, his long fingers digging into the tops of her hips, and he ground against her before setting a brutal pace. "You're moaning for it, loving it when we grip you too hard and bruise your soft skin." He could almost hear the slap of flesh and her moans in the cab of the lift.

"Hux is a little violent, isn't he?" she breathlessly asked. Her eyes were closed, yet her cheeks were flushed as if she could see what he did.

He smirked down at her and pointed out that Hux _had_ ordered the destruction of five planets. She met his gaze and smiled.

"You like that about him," she stated.

He didn't like to admit to it, but he did. Hux had well-thought-out plans and smart maneuvers that had always won Snoke over. He said, "He's precise with his moves--I admire that."

She told him it was okay to want them both. He didn't think she fully understood the situation. He didn't want Hux like he wanted her. She had been there as a half-formed promise, a dream to hope for in the dark, before he went to train with Skywalker. Hux was an aggravation--albeit an attractive one, but still--and had been competition for years.

He pushed off the lift wall and turned to see that they were almost at the officers barracks level. As the doors opened, he instructed her to go to her quarters. He wanted her alone all night and needed no paltry distractions.


	12. If You're Looking For A Reason, I've A Reason To Give

He woke up wanting her. It was like being laid low by a fever. He could still feel the hot touch of her velvety tongue against his cock and the way she had sucked him in, corkscrewing her head down and up. He could almost feel her hands still holding him, steadying him, guiding him towards orgasm.

He knew he had confessed his love in the aftermath. It had hardly felt like an accident. She had looked so beautiful on her knees and looking up at him that offering up that bit of truth about himself hadn't seemed like such a risk. She had accepted it and kissed him and gave a delighted laugh as he found a ticklish spot just below her ear.

Hux, the uncertain future, and her vengeance had been entirely forgotten.

And then he'd gotten her leggings and panties off. The delicate smell of her--her hair, her skin, her sweat, her cunt--had been heady and sweet and womanly. She felt even better--all hot softness and so slick. He had been gentle, circling her clit and following her folds down to the opening of her vagina. He had been teasing her, never giving enough pressure on her clit nor pushing his fingers inside her.

She had pressed her forehead to his and asked him to help her out, calling him master. His gut tightened at that and his cock jumped. He had known she was playing dirty. She had to have known what that did to him by now. He had teased back by saying that demonstrating proper technique was essential.

She had bitten her lip and gave him this coy look that had him wishing he was hard again, so he could lift her up and thrust inside her. The next best thing was making her come, and he'd been wanting to do that all day.

He focused on holding her still and getting the right pressure on her clit, and then easing invisible fingers inside her to stoke at the front wall of her pussy. Her swollen lips parted and her eyes went half-mast as he pleasured her. Then something changed, her back tightened and she frowned. He thought she had been close to orgasm and told her to relax. She whimpered that she couldn't, but he had assured that she could and that she should let go.

She pressed her face against his shoulder and breathed as he worked her body. She began gasping and wiggling in his arms. He had whispered that he had her over and over until she brokenly cried. He tightened his hold as her body had convulsed and he felt the wetness of her release run down his fingers and drip onto his open trousers.

There was a perverse pride in giving her such an orgasm. He knew no one ever had before. And she had been like a child in his arms--so vulnerable and overwhelmed. She was sweet and all his. _Hux_ couldn't give that to her, no one could do this for her like _he_ could.

After quietly holding her for long, decadent minutes, he had gotten her fully undressed and onto the bed. She watched him as he pulled off the rest of his clothes and went into the refresher. His hands had smelled like her--all musky and tangy. He sucked the remaining moisture off his middle finger just to have a last taste of her. He had bitten back his groan because this was real and he was in her quarters and he could be with her for as long as they had together.

He had taken a deep breath and licked his lips before rinsing off his hands. He had come back out with a half-full glass of water for her to that find she had gotten under the blanket. As he sat down and handed her the water, he asked if she were cold. She propped herself up on an elbow and drained the glass.

"It's a little cool in here," she had replied and then handed the empty glass back with a soft _thank you_.

He had hummed in agreement and set the cup aside as she scooted over in the narrow bed to make room for him. That had been invitation enough for him and he slowly tugged the blanket down to expose her once more. She had watched the standard issue blanket slide down her torso. He wondered if she had thought he was done for the night.

"Lie back," he had whispered and then ordered the lights to half strength.

He had studied her face in the dim as he settled on his side beside her. She met his eyes as he traced her arm with his fingers and followed her soft skin over her shoulder and down to her chest. He had cupped one of her breasts and circled a thumb around the puckering nipple.

He hadn't done it to arouse her exactly, but she was there; and since she was, he wanted to touch her and please her. She had silently replied by reaching up and stroking his cheek, caressing his bottom lip. Her simple touch alone seemed to communicate that she saw him for who he was and loved him regardless.

He had moved towards her then and kissed her again. It had been languid and easy, and her lips were so soft against his. She had hummed against his mouth and threw a leg over his hip, kicking the blanket away as she did. In response, he had gotten a hand on her ass and pulled her against him. He was already half hard again just from kissing her, but the feeling of her wet pussy right against his groin had his cock hard and eager.

He had sandwiched his top leg between hers and felt her writhe in his arms. She hugged him tight with arms and leg and rolled her hips against him, trying to get some stimulation against her clit. He leaned on an elbow and got a hand under her neck to tilt her face up to his.

"Do you want me?" he had asked.

Her eyes had glittered in the half-light as they danced over his homely face. She murmured _yes_ and slid her fingers into his hair. She tried to pull him down into a kiss or roll them so he was on top, but he resisted.

"Tell me," he demanded as he kneaded one round cheek of her ass. "Say it."

"I want you," she had whispered. "Just you."

She tugged at him again and sat up a little in an attempt to catch his lips. He tried to deny her, but he was weak in the face of her desire. She was so beautiful and fine, and he surrendered--happily and willfully. She stretched against him, pressing as much of her front to his as she could.

"Should I turn around?" she had asked against his lips.

"No. No, just like this."

He wanted her facing him, seeing him despite his scarred appearance. No one would ever have her like this, and he wanted her to know it. No one would love her like she needed, like she deserved, and he alone could give that to her.

As he had pushed his cock inside her, she gave him a pleased half-grin and let out a breath. He wanted to demand that she talk to him, tell him how much she liked it and wanted him, but instead he curled around her and began rocking his hips.

Her reaction had been instant--a sharp inhale and scrabble of hands over his back. He used the hand on her ass to bring her tighter to him with each thrust, and her heel dug into his spine. She had pressed her forehead to his upper chest and told him to keep going.

In minutes, she had been writhing in his arms and clawing at his back and shoulders. He trailed his fingers down the seam of her rear to stroke her wet folds and the slick furl of her asshole. She cried out at the little tease and tensed against him.

He cursed and kept fucking her until she was breathless and her cunt was throbbing around his cock. She had moaned for him to come, to come in her-- _give it to me_ \--she wanted to feel it. He hadn't thought he had much choice because her breathy encouragement was enough to have him gripping her hips and pumping her full.

His come had oozed around his dick, all hot and thick, adding to the wet mess between their legs. He thought he should get up to retrieve something to clean them up, but he couldn't seem to move away from her. He smoothed back her hair and carefully slid his arm fully under her neck to support her head. She had hummed and kissed his shoulder and neck.

He wished she had told him that she loved him, but she had kept quiet. He found he could have patience for her because he knew that she would confess in time.

However, his febrile lust could not wait nor be sated in the refresher with his hand.

The fever still had its grip upon his mind and body. He was currently spooned up behind her with his dick was so hard it almost hurt as it rested against the swell of her ass. The darkness of the room only added to the aching desire he had for her.

Everything was _touch_ and _smell_. The scent of their combined sweat and sex was trapped under the blanket. He scooted down the bed a few inches and kissed her curled shoulder. _Taste._ She gave a little sound as though she were waking. _Sound._ Her skin was almost sticky with perspiration. _Never enough touch._

He trailed a hand down her damp back and then led with his fingers between her legs. She was burning hot and wet still. Her back arched a little as if it were her natural proclivity to lean into his touch, as if she'd been doing it for years.

He used his now-slick fingers to fist his cock as he pushed his face into her loose hair. He felt like a criminal, jerking off behind her in the dark. He teased himself by nudging the head of his cock against the crease of her legs. If he pushed up, he could get his dick in her. The very thought had his balls drawing up.

Would she hate him for wanting her so badly that he couldn't wait?

He made a space for his cock in the perfect heat between her legs and whispered her name. She barely stirred, and he took a moment to mouth how much he loved her against her skin before finding the perfect angle.

As he eased in, she groaned and then slapped a hand on the wall in front of her. He whispered to her that he couldn't wait. She moved her legs a little and told him it was okay. He pressed up behind her and shuddered at how tight she felt in this position.

She pushed back towards him as he began to rock them together. Their skin was sticking together in some places and sliding in others. She moaned and squirmed against him, her ass sliding against his groin.

He kept pumping his cock inside her, unable to help himself as he felt her fingers working her body in time with his thrusts. He rutted with her in the dark, chasing after satisfaction, until she jerked with a sloppy gasp and tightened up. He could feel each clench of her climax around his cock. It sent him plummeting into the most relaxed orgasm he's ever had. It just flowed, so natural, almost soft, no straining, through him and spilled from his dick.

He could tell he was almost coming dry, but he didn't care. It still felt good. He plastered himself against her back and held her, disregarding their sweat and come. He kissed any part of her he could reach--which ended up being her shoulder and part of her neck.

Her breathing calmed back down, and she complained that it was too hot under the blanket. He kicked the blanket down their bodies so it was only covering the lower part of their legs. She sighed and put a hand over his at her waist.

It was quiet and calm in the aftermath. The haze of lust finally retreating a little. He rested his temple against her shoulder and basked in finally being close to her once more.

The quiet, though, did nothing for his mind. He could hear her from earlier: _No, Kylo, it was wrong._ However, he knew he hadn't been wrong. And he knew he shouldn't be punished for it. That wasn't to say he wouldn't accept her vengeance. She was entitled to her point of view--no matter how incorrect and misguided.

He asked if she really wanted him to pay for Tekka. She murmured her ambivalent feelings, ending that it was complicated.

He pointed out that Tekka had aided the Resistance and had given away information. She returned with the fact that she had loved Tekka.

"But you love me, too," he replied.

She didn't reply to that right away. He sensed she was torn. The conflicting feelings inside her hurt her and confused her. For the first time, he wished he could alleviate someone's suffering. He wanted to remove the pain and free her from it entirely.

"My love has nothing to do with vengeance," she hoarsely stated.

It was all but a full confession. She loved him and knew it and verbally acknowledged it.

He lifted her upper leg just enough to slip out of her. The time for that kind of connection was through for the night despite his wanting to hear her cry out that she loved him over and over. He was curious if he could fuck it out of her, but she felt so rigid in his arms now. He'd never gone for unwilling bed partners, and he wouldn't start now.

"What does your love have to do with, then?" he asked.

He could hear the delicate sound of her mouth opening, but she remained silent for a moment before saying she didn't know.

He stated, "I know there have been times you wanted to do it yourself."

He recalled their stay on Coruscant when she'd been furious at his past actions. He had seen such darkness in her, so much anger. She had held up her lightsaber against him, and he knew she had warred between defending herself and striking him down.

Her head bowed a little against the crooked pillow. "And yet you've kept me alive."

"And you know why."

The Force had revealed her--not what she looked like, but her soul, her energy, her mind--years ago. He couldn't have ignored it and destroyed her in Tuanul, and he wouldn't do it now. They were together because it was their destiny. He wouldn't deny that and neither would she. He'd make certain she never would.

"We are at an impasse," he said as gently as he could when she remained silent.

"Can we not talk about it anymore?" she half-asked.

She felt so conflicted and distressed, and something akin to grief. Usually, he would push until a person broke, but it would be wrong to do so now. He conceded to her and pulled them together. She sighed in relief and rubbed her foot against his shin before relaxing in his arms. Within minutes, she was asleep again, and he listened to her steady breath until it lulled him into dreams.

Morning was subtly strained, their impasse lingering like a fog between them. She stayed seated in bed, the blanket tucked over her shoulders, as he got dressed. He leaned over and kissed her forehead before telling her he'd be back so they could have breakfast together. She gave a nod and agreed.

Her eyes were sleepy and doe-like as they looked up at him. For a second, he wanted to undress all over again and get in bed with her. They could forget about training and Tekka and Hux and Snoke, if just for the day. Instead, he wrenched himself away and got out of her room.

His quarters were dark and cool and smelled like nothing. The cleaning droids had been by and buffed the deck to a dull shine. The second mattress was gone from its former place under the shelf-bed. The armchair had been pushed into the corner with the ash table beside it. The room felt so very impersonal, suddenly. It seemed devoid of life.

He realized it had always felt like this. These rooms had never been his home. This was just someplace in which he slept, meditated, and privately trained in.

He pushed away the lonely thought and creakily stripped. He cleaned up and redressed in fresh training clothes. Since the _Finalizer_ had a well-equipped gym, it seemed a waste to not use it with his apprentice. He would offer her real saber training in a controlled environment.

When he came back to her room, she was already in training gear with her hair gathered back. She didn't greet him or even turn to acknowledge his presence, though he knew she was keenly aware of him. He wanted to ask if she was still dwelling on avenging Tekka and if she thought he was wrong for cutting down an enemy of the First Order.

As he approached her, he asked himself how that would benefit him. How would bringing up Tekka keep her at his side? He couldn't undo it, and she would never forgive it. It was best he let it go for the time being because, if he didn't, he might win an argument, but ultimately lose her.

He refocused on the good thing right in front of him and placed his hands on her sides. Her posture relaxed at his touch, so he pressed himself against her back and asked how she was feeling. She replied that she was sore and needed to stretch. He revealed that he was in the same condition.

He could see her pleased smirk from the angle he was at. "Did I wear you out last night, _master_?" she crooned.

A rush of pleasure from her calling him master centered in his groin. She knew what that did to him, _the dirty tease_. He hugged her from behind and murmured in her ear, "Fucked me dry."

She practically purred as she reached back to run her fingers through his hair. He held her and stared out into the never-ending field of stars until his empty stomach made itself known. He ducked his head and hoped she didn't hear it because he wasn't ready to let her go. However, she was too close to not hear it and with all affection told him to comm for breakfast.

He breathed in her clean scent before releasing her to go to the comm-access panel by the main door. He requested a simple breakfast for two that was heavy on protein with some carbs for instant energy. The droid on other end confirmed the order and reported the galley would have a meal to them in ten minutes.

When he turned back to her, she straightened up from the datapad on the retractable desk and met his eyes as if she needed to get something off her chest. He wondered if Hux had sent her a message. Stars knew, Hux couldn't leave well enough alone. Before he could come closer and to see the datapad screen, she said that she wanted to learn to fight using two lightsabers.

_Ah._

It was a relief to keep to simple matters. He told her that Yideth and Baltek could teach her. A thoughtful moue marred her features for a second before she asked why he wouldn't teach her. He told her that instructing her through such a technique wasn't his strong suit--which was true. He knew how to utilize two sabers in a fight, but he didn't think he had it in him to show _and_ correct at the same time.

It had taken him a long time to recognize his limitations. For all that Snoke hadn't done for him, he had taught him to see his shortcomings and do something about them. Though his former master may be dead, the valuable lesson remained.


	13. Show Your Soul, Show Your Mind, Show It To Me All the Time

"What was Snoke like as a master?" she asked as they made their second circuit around the walking track in the training center.

How could he describe the first person who he thought was an answer to his problems? Who seemed to know how to navigate the Force in a way that actually made sense to him? Who never condemned his connection to the Force? Who brought him enlightenment and education for the _small_ price of his autonomy? As someone he tried not to think about lest he call him back into existence?

"Difficult. Complicated. Knowledgeable. Untouchable."

"Were you ever scared of him?"

It would be inaccurate to say that he had been terrified of Snoke because that implied that Snoke had terrorized him. Snoke had been no boogeyman hiding under the bed. Snoke had been the comforting voice talking him out of nightmares.

Young Ben had been impressed--awestricken--by Snoke. There had been no room for fear. Snoke had laid out a path for him, and he had dutifully followed it. He had severed his familial connections because they had made him weak. Ben had destroyed himself and had been born anew as Kylo Ren. He had picked over the bones of the late Ben Solo to incorporate only that which was useful.

But had he ever been scared of Snoke? "No."

No, he hadn't been scared of Snoke. He had been scared for her. It had been stupid to put her in front of Snoke like bait on a hook. It was a relief which made his knees quake that she had survived.

"Tell me about scavenging on Jakku," he urged. Even to his ears, it came out as a demand. He could admit he wasn't adept at conversing. He wasn't smooth at transitioning to another subject and he couldn't keep his questions from sounding like a soft interrogation. He would have to work on that--especially with her.

"Why do you want to know?" she returned, suspicious.

He tried to put an insouciant spin on his question with a shrug. "I know you did it for a time. The scavenger--" He motioned to his scarred face. "--lived on Jakku. I'm curious."

"Know thy enemy, huh?" she offered and was quiet for a few seconds as she gathered her thoughts. "She worked alone on Jakku, right, but that isn't the only way to scavenge. There were, like, groups that would be sent on jobs--find x amount of alusteel or bring back as many artesiatic dampeners or circuit multiplexers as you can find. That sort of thing. Groups could be out there for days in the graveyard trying to find enough to come back home with.

"Sometimes groups wouldn't come back at all because they'd been killed by a nightwatcher worm. Then there'd be another group sent out to scout for the dead group and pick over what was left. Sometimes they brought back survivors, but most times they didn't."

"You scavenged with groups, then?"

"In the beginning, yeah, it was easier to have orders and a guarantee of food. Once I knew what the junk bosses were looking for, I went out on my own for a while. I picked through the old Destroyers I stayed in." She looked up at him. "It's not an easy life. I didn't do it for long."

"Why would she continue?" he thought out loud.

"I don't know. It's what she knew? What she was good at?" she guessed. "Maybe she had an exclusive with a junk boss."

"The scrap you and she traded was partially for the First Order. The Empire is all over these ships. It was in Starkiller."

"I didn't know that. I knew the First Order bought from Jakku and that some of the food rations came from the Empire."

He trailed his fingers along the handrail separating the walking track from the stormtrooper combat training arena below. "It's like you've been here all along."

"Your scavenger has probably touched more of the First Order's equipment than I have," she drily pointed out.

Rey would never leave him. She would be persistent like a gnat until he crushed her like one. "I'm going to face her again. I feel it."

His apprentice nodded. "Then we should continue training."

"Training with you certainly keeps me on my toes."

She scoffed and stopped walking. "Baltek told me not to take your head, and you agreed with him. I don't see how I stand a chance fighting with you or any of the Knights."

"You are merciless and fearless," he assessed as he paused in his footsteps and turned to face her. "Your lightsabers are an extension of yourself. I don't know if you learned that from Yideth or if it came naturally to you.

"However, you need to learn how to strike. Not every swing needs to be deadly."

"But didn't you make that mistake with the scavenger?"

He gritted his teeth. An accusation like that coming from anyone else would've earned them a swift retaliation. He tightly enunciated, "That was a miscalculation."

She seemed to back off at his explanation. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who didn't like their weaknesses pointed out. "I get it. You were trying to fulfill Snoke's orders by bringing her in alive and mostly unharmed."

"But I have no such orders now."

"No, you don't. So, what are you going to do when you see her again?"

"Destroy her."

"Will brute force be enough?"

That felt like a rhetorical question to him, but he still replied. "Definitely not."

"So, strategy."

"Strategy," he agreed. He remembered a game his uncles had liked to play. It was all about strategy and calculated sacrifice. He'd seen it listed as one of the approved games available to the crew. "I know a game we could play."

"If you say Strip Dejarik, I'm leaving," she joked and put her hands on her hips.

He smirked. "While I'm not against that," he began and let his gaze wander over her lush body. "I was thinking of Novacrown."

"Never heard of it."

He tilted his head to indicate they should leave the training center. "Come on." He turned for the main doors and said over his shoulder, "It's something I haven't played in a long time."

As she sped her steps to catch up, she asked what the game was like and what the rules were. It had been years since he thought of Novacrown. Explaining the game to an inexperienced person kept the hollow feeling of severed ties at bay. He didn't have the energy to wonder how Calrissian was--or if he knew about Han Solo yet--if he was dedicated to describing the complexities of the game to her.

Once they were in the officers barracks, he told her to clean up and come back to his quarters. She agreed and hurried to her room as he stepped inside his. He commed for a Novacrown set, a pitcher of water, and two cups.

By the time she came to his quarters, he was washed and in fresh clothes. A delivery droid arrived soon thereafter with his request. He set the game up on the retractable table as she poured them both something to drink.

The game was more difficult than he remembered. His uncles had made it seem fun and intriguing. Perhaps it had simply appeared that way to him all those years ago. Or maybe they had taken it easy on him when he'd asked to join in. Because now he found Novacrown demanding and it took all of his concentration to keep his pieces from being cornered. He studied her to find that he wasn't the only one wracking their brain to play the game.

She glanced up at him and gave him a smile. She seemed to be enjoying herself, and he liked playing against her. He couldn't say who was winning, but it didn't feel as though they were unevenly matched. What he could say was that he was getting to know her better through the moves she chose. She liked surprising him and using distance until ready to strike. While she was new to the game and he was rusty, it was an entertaining challenge for both of them.

Before the game was over, it was just past 2200. With an 0900 practice session scheduled with Yideth and Baltek the next cycle, they needed to rest. He wanted to tell her to stay the night again, but she was already slowly heading for the door, stretching her arms up with a yawn as she went.

He caught up to her and leaned against the locked door to block her from leaving just yet. She smirked at him and pressed herself right up against him with her hands on his waist.

"My bed is calling me," she sing-songed.

"Are you sure it's your bed?"

She hummed and bit her bottom lip as her eyes drifted down to his mouth. "Pretty sure."

"I don't know." He straightened up and leaned in. "Mine's right there and very comfortable."

"Seems like it'll be a tight fit." She tilted her head with a warm smile.

"You weren't complaining about that last night."

"Never--"

He cut her off with a kiss and cradled her lovely face in his hands. She gave a surprised noise, but kissed him back with enthusiasm. Her sucking on his bottom lip almost made him come before she leaned back.

"I really am tired," she told him.

"One more kiss," he bargained.

She went up on the balls of her feet to kiss him one more time. Her hands snaked around his hips to get two handfuls of his ass. He groaned and deepened the kiss, teasing her tongue with his.

She broke the kiss and, with a long exhale, lowered her heels to the deck. Her pupils were wide and dark, and he was so tempted to keep going. He could drag her over to the bed to lay her out and have his way. He didn't think she'd argue much.

"Okay," she told herself. "I'm going."

In what was a surprising show of willpower, she stepped back and hit the release button for the door. He stepped aside to allow her to pass, and she walked out into the deserted passageway.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning, _master_."

"Good night, my apprentice," he softly replied.

-

Today's practice with Yideth and Baltek had gone as well as yesterday's. His apprentice was picking up duel-saber forms quickly, even if she struggled with perfect posture. The four of them had worked for a few hours while Kin Al and Jeckhum had trained on their own on the sidelines.

Jeckhum and Kin Al had left the booked gym mid-cycle to get something to fuel up and then hit the weight machines. They had probably opted for those terrible nutribars that were available in the training center. He couldn't stand those things, or the glop that was served in the canteen. It all tasted artificial like chalky, bitter vitamins and tangy preservatives under the sweet grain flavor. It reminded him of the nutrigel Han Solo had kept for emergencies on the _Millennium Falcon_.

Yideth and Baltek had moved on after Jeckhum and Kin Al had. Before they left, Yideth had urged his apprentice to practice with him and get the feel of the moves. Baltek offered some aspects on which she needed to work: posture, developing body memory, and situational awareness.

He didn't know if she had internalized all Baltek said, but she would learn all of it soon enough. They had the time to practice, just the two of them. However, he was hungry and he knew she was, too.

They looked at each other said food at the same time. He almost laughed at how easy it was to be in sync with her as he went to the comm panel by the main double doors of the gym. He commed for actual, real food, and the galley offered stew as an option. He ordered enough for two along with water.

As he turned back to her, seeing her absently rub the back of her neck, he was struck by how much he had wanted her to stay in his quarters last night. It wasn't just about sex, either. It wasn't not about sex, but he liked holding her at night. He liked the smell of her hair and the softness of her skin. He liked doing things for her, talking to her, learning about her past. When he woke from a dream, he found it soothing to listen to her breathing.

He kept all of that inside and ate lunch beside her. She seemed open and relaxed, now that it was just the two of them. After she set her empty bowl inside his, he adjusted the outside seams of his track pants and stared out into the bright gym.

"I missed you last night."

Her head whipped around to look at him, and she replied that she had been with him most of the evening. While that was true, there was more than sharing a meal, a walk, and a game of Novacrown. He wanted more.

He shrugged off her reply and told her to move into his quarters.

She got to her feet and picked up the dirty bowls. As she pour herself some water, she teased that the reason he wanted her back with him was so he could wake her up with a midnight hard-on. She poked the mat on the wall, imitating her words.

Her grin made him relax because she wasn't outright refusing him. There was a way through, he just had to seize the opportunity.

He joked back that she had never complained before. She retorted that she didn't mind his lust, but she wanted a full-night's rest.

"Then stop being so alluring," he accused.

She scoffed at his claim, but he went on:

"Attractive."

She dismissed the compliment. He stood up and pressed against her side as she took a drink of her water.

"Beautiful," he stated as he put his hands on her waist. He leaned down to kiss her bare shoulder.

She curled towards him, her eyes full of mischief. "Fight me for it."

He liked the sound of that and asked for the terms. She replied that his getting five torso hits on her while using duel swords would get her to move back in with him. She tacked on that neither of them could use the Force.

"What if you win?" he asked.

"I stay where I am, and you can't enter without my permission."

He was less than pleased with that part, but he could work with it. She needed the practice, and he would benefit by showing her what could be done with two lightsabers--or in this case practice swords.

He took the almost-drained glass from her hand and placed it on the delivery tray. He needed to remind her what she could be losing if she won. It might undermine her resolve, he reasoned. He told her he would accept on the condition that she kiss him.

She didn't dismiss him this time and kissed him with hunger. She was greedy, pushing her fingers into his damp hair, and forced his head to tilt. It was perfect, it was everything he remembered. Her tongue slid against his, and he wanted to walk them back to the wall and forget the fight.

Before he could do that, she pulled away and went for her practice sabers. He took a few deep, calming breaths and got his own sabers. He got into the first stance and told her he wouldn't go easy on her. He would win her back--even if that meant beating her at her own challenge.

It became apparent he _was_ going easy on her when she got in the first hit. She happily bounced back to her starting position, but he hardly gave her time to get comfortable. He struck at her swords faster than she was prepared for, getting closer and closer to her, until it became too difficult to defend herself. He jabbed at her stomach, satisfied that he was treating her like an equal because he refused to coddle her here--no one else would.

He called out the score--one to one--as he backed away. He could feel her composure slowly melt away. He internally smirked and wanted to make sure her frustration wasn't overwhelming her control. He barreled towards her, their swords clacking again and again when they clashed, and she seemed to teeter. He took advantage of her instability and struck with both his swords. However, she wasn't as wobbly as she appeared and got a clean hit to his side.

He felt the second hit and hissed to himself as she declared her two strikes. He had to focus, but then he caught what she said.

"No, that counts as one," he corrected.

She pointed out that she got him twice, and he argued that the first was lethal with the second blow being insurance.

She huffed and stepped back. _"Fine!_ Two to one."

He was getting to her--he could feel it. With the third round, he went fancy. He added flourishes, spins, and unnecessary torso leans. He hadn't done any of those things in years, but it felt good to use them to throw her off. She had a difficult time keeping up with his moves, and he used that to his advantage by finally getting her across her back.

He announced the score--two to two--and got into position. "I'm going to have you in my bed again, you mark my words," he assured her.

She replied that she couldn't wait until she started her bleeding because then he'd regret getting her back.

That surprised him, and he told her he'd take care of her. Menstruation could be an unpleasant time for a woman, he knew that, so why would he make it worse by not supporting her. A little blood hardly disgusted him, anyway. He could provide supplies and whatever else she needed. She was his to take care of, and he would look after her.

He lunged forward to poke the middle of her chest, but she turned to the side to avoid the hit and attempted to retaliate by getting him on his back. He ducked just in time, and she stumbled from the momentum of her sword. He trapped her between between his sabers and tapped her with them.

He reminded her of the score--two to three--and felt her surge of disappointment. She stretched a little, cracking her neck, before she faced him again. He let her come to him this time. She utilized a few of Yideth's graceful moves and caught him by surprise. He tried to bend backwards to avoid her secondary sword, but she was too fast. He felt the hit and her utter delight at besting him.

She trilled the score--three to three--as she hopped back into place. She was such a vision in her minor victory that he wanted to kiss her. He told himself it was to wipe the smug look off her face, but he knew that wasn't entirely true.

As he came for her with an upward slash, he heard the gym door swish open. He ignored it to finish the round. She hadn't noticed the audience yet, and he wouldn't point it out as he got past her defenses. He got her on the side, using her own sword against her.

He leaned in and asked, "What's the score now, my sweet?"

"Three to four," she snapped back.

He reminded her that one more hit and she'd be his. He couldn't wait to beat her and then press her to one of the mats against the wall. And then he'd get her back in his-- _their_ \--quarters and have her again. He didn't care if they were sweaty from training, he just wanted to feel her skin against his.

When he rushed for her this round, she didn't try to hit him. No, she used her swords to knock his wide and then body-checked him. He blundered back, but was able to block her strike. He twisted his swords around hers to try to get her to release her sabers, but she let her hands be battered.

She got out of his hold and told him he was lucky she hadn't gone for his nuts. He pondered out loud if she would really fight so dirty. Her eyebrow quirked in reply, and that was answer enough. Of course she would, and he loved her for it.

The clash continued with her trying a side-strike, but she didn't have the strength to use his own weapon against him. She then tried to swipe at his chest, but that left her open. He used the opportunity to get her right in the ribs.

He backed off and announced the score--three to five. It had been good practice for both of them. She had given him a run for his money, so to speak. However, his experience, reach, and strength proved too much for her to best. In time, he knew, she'd learn how to.

She muttered a curse to herself and threw her shoulders back. She appeared to be losing gracefully, but the sound of gloved hands clapping stopped her. He turned to see their guest on the mezzanine: _Hux_.

She glanced back to give him an irritated look. He watched as Hux leaned over the mezzanine railing to state:

"I had seen that the Knights had booked this gym for the second day in a row."

That didn't mean shit, and they both knew it. The Knights--when together on a ship--would book a favored gym for weeks at a time. Hux was just a nosy control-freak who wanted to see her.

"Much to my delight, I got to watch master and apprentice," Hux finished.

He called up, "Is that all you wanted? To have your presence acknowledged?"

Hux came down from the mezzanine and said that he'd wanted to see them in action. It was towards the end of gamma shift, so Hux must've clocked out early with the hopes of catching her alone. Or at least with none of the other Knights around.

"And now you have," he told Hux, hoping Hux would go away. He had an apprentice to make feel better and then move back in with him.

Hux disregarded his dismissal and asked her if she would be going to the med bay for treatment. She examined her bruised knuckles and shrugged. Hux looked to him and accused him of deliberately hurting her. He tucked his swords under his arm and took hers to put them away while telling Hux it was all part of training.

Hux was touching her now, holding one of her hands in his as though it were made of glass. She said something to Hux, some reassurance. He turned away for a second and when he looked back, Hux was kissing her hand. She let out a soft gasp as she felt Hux's lips on her skin.

He drew up behind her, towering over her, to glare down at his co-commander. He placed a hand on the small of her back to ground her or at least remind her she wasn't alone against Hux.

Hux asked if she'd thought about the offered position as his consort. Apparently, she had because she said she'd do it with conditions. That was news to him, and he fought hard to keep it off his face as they went back and forth with their personal requirements.

She mentioned the new physical aspect between the three of them, and he couldn't stop himself from clenching his teeth. He knew Hux just wanted to get his hands all over her. However, as he met Hux's eyes over his apprentice's shoulder, he was struck by the fast heat in them.

Hux was thinking of him with desire too as he replied to her. Yes, Hux wanted what he could do as a commander in the First Order and as a Force-user; the power was a heady aphrodisiac. That was no surprise. What was a surprise was that Hux wanted to touch him, kiss him, taste him.

She stepped up to Hux and held his face. Hux minutely jerked at the touch, but didn't step back. She stroked his cheeks with her thumbs until he relaxed and closed his eyes. She hesitated for a second before going up on tip-toes to kiss Hux. It was a delicate kiss, so very different from Hux's fantasies where he grabbed hips and pulled hair and bit shoulders.

As she lowered herself back to flat-footedness and let him go, she murmured to Hux, "Yes, you would--it just wouldn't show."


	14. We Were Strangers, For Way Too Long

Hux had ruined everything.

He was supposed to assuage his apprentice's bruised ego and have her not regret losing. Instead, Hux with his handsome face battered right into their time until the Knights came back to the gym. He could've been kissing her and making her feel good the whole time.

It wasn't exactly revenge to commandeer Hux's quarters for the suggested game of sabacc, but it did put Hux on the spot. If that was how the rest of the cycle was going to go, he was going to lean into it. He would drink and play cards and be with his Knights for as long as the evening lasted.

Currently, he had an apprentice to move back into this quarters before cleaning up and heading up to Hux's. She seemed conflicted to be back with him, even as she hung up her clothing in the closet. When he asked if she wanted to be there, her answer was less than enthusiastic. While he didn't expect her to relish losing, of course, he had thought that being closer to him would be a good thing.

Their bond was strong--strong enough to survive even with neglect. And maybe for another type of person their bond would have given some comfort. And it _was_ a comfort, but also a reminder to him that he had someone by his side, that he wasn't alone. If she was going be by his proverbial side, shouldn't she be by his literal side?

He would get her to see this arrangement was beneficial--to both of them. _Somehow._

Out of nowhere, she asked why he didn't want to be emperor. The answer came easily enough to him: Leia Organa, her fighting with other senators, and her own people, to do what was necessary. He had seen enough politics to know he wanted no part of it.

His apprentice pointed out that as emperor he could change laws. She seemed so invested that it made him question why she wanted to know so badly. Maybe what she wanted was power, and Hux had been right in his insinuations. Maybe that was why she had agreed to be Hux's consort--not because it could get them out from under the First Order, like she said she wanted, but because she wanted to rise through the ranks without committing to anything but to a man she could easily kill. She wanted Hux, wanted his power, wanted to know him.

He asked if she wanted to be an emperor's woman, if that was why she had agreed to Hux's arrangement. She was honestly shocked at the accusation as he stalked up to her. She pressed back against the closet door and assured him she had been thinking of him.

He voiced that he knew she was curious about and attracted to Hux. She countered that he was, too. He cornered her against the closet door and voiced that she wasn't concerned with his growing realization that he was interested in Hux.

With a lick of her lips, she argued, "No, why should I? If you wanted Hux for yourself, there would be nothing I could do to persuade you to stay. You choose me. For as long as you want, you choose me."

And how long would she choose him? He was a weak person, easily led by his ugly nose--if his time with Snoke was any indication. She would come to see that. She would end up leaving him when she figured it out, too.

He didn't know if he could live through it if she chose Hux. Hux might be many things, he told himself, but he hadn't kill his father because someone told him to.

She frowned and asked, "What does that hav--"

He wanted to rip the closet door from its discreet hinges and throw it across the room. "Because I'm a _failure!"_ He pushed himself away and headed into the training room--where there was nothing to break. "Why would you want me?" he asked as he folded his arms across his chest. "Why do you stay? Why did you _agree?"_

He had so many questions and absolutely no answers. Without a path on which to walk, he was utterly lost. He had no compass for this trek. He stared out into the void of space and willed a solution to come to him.

Instead of a solution, he got his apprentice following him into the room.

"Did Snoke tell you to kill him?" she inquired.

He glanced over his shoulder to see that she was shaken. He told her that Snoke had instructed him to destroy the past and all of the people who had hurt him. It had been implied that through such destruction he could gain strength for the next step in his training.

She asked if he thought his father hated him for what he had done. He didn't know how to answer that because he didn't know to which part she was referring. He had looked back on the actions of his father years ago and wondered if there had ever been any real love there. He finally replied that he didn't know. He couldn't seem to finish the statement that Han had never loved him.

It felt wrong to try to finish it.

She came up beside him. "That's not what I saw."

"That's even worse, isn't it." He felt his face trying to crumple under the sudden weight of her words and tried to hide it from her. If there had been love and devotion in Han Solo for his son, he would never know now.

"Would you do it again if given the choice now?"

It had not made him stronger then, and it certainly wouldn't now. "No," he whispered.

She softly assessed, "Then you're a changed man."

That was ridiculous, but before he could voice his opinion, the entry request chimed. It was the steward and a droid with a datapad for her, the extra mattress--which shouldn't have been taken away in the first place--and linens. He ignored the fussing going on in the other room. He was tempted to close the door to the training room, but he left it.

Changed, she had said. She said it like he had risen above Snoke's teachings. Like he wasn't using what he had learned with her. Or like he'd had some grand revelation. Or even that he had absolved himself.

Well, that was banthashit and laughable and naive. _Redemption._ And when she came back into the room, he told her she was delusional to think he was redeemed. She took his words in stride and told him that redemption was overrated.

"I've committed _patricide_. I've killed _hundreds_ of people. I collect the remains of my _enemies."_ He came up to her and stared down into her eyes. "There is no forgiveness, no salvation, for me."

"Then how do you love me?" she demanded.

"How can _you_ love _me_? What is wrong with you that you diminish yourself with someone like me?"

She lashed out, knocking her palm against his shoulder and taking him by surprise. She pointed out how many times he'd taken care of her, provided for her, in the time they had been together. She pushed at his shoulder again and told him that he'd protected her, had done more for her than anyone she'd ever known. She grabbed his head and brought him down eye-to-eye with her to tell him that she didn't care about redemption--she cared about him.

"But what about Tekka?" he barked.

"There will be a reckoning, Kylo, but I'll... I'll help you pick up the pieces."

He stared into her eyes, studying them, looking for a lie, a ploy, anything. He found only truth and devotion and _love_. He was powerless in the face of it. She didn't know how much her pledge meant, how it cut right through him.

He found himself on his knees, finding solace when he never expected it. And it didn't come from pretty words or graceful promises under easy circumstances. It had come from a hardened person from a desert planet who wanted to stand by his side. She more than tolerated him, she accepted him more than anyone--his parents, his masters, his peers--ever had.

He felt fingers in his hair, gently unbraiding it. He was of two minds about her comfort. He needed it with a violent hunger, but it was a weakness he couldn't abide. He wanted to run away from her delicate touch as if it burned him and at the same time push into it to let it wound him. Let her add to his scars.

He stayed on his knees in front of her until the joints went numb.

Eventually, he pulled away and sat back on his calves. The warmth of her touch lingered in his hair and on his shoulders. She looked down at him as if to ask if he needed more from her. He almost hung his head in shame because he knew all he was doing was taking and taking from her. He wanted to give so much more. And he knew that was selfish, too.

"We should get cleaned up," he stated.

She made no move to step back. Instead, she bent down and tilted his face up to kiss him. He closed his eyes and sank into it. He felt her words about being with him echo within. He shouldn't doubt her. She had never given him a reason to doubt her.

No matter what happened from this point on, he had to kill any lack of conviction, any uncertainty. Doing what was necessary was the only way forward--for both of them.

She broke the kiss and claimed the refresher first. He watched her walk into the other room before getting to his feet. He took a deep breath to center himself. The knowledge that they were going to successfully seduce Hux came to him. It was going to be tonight, and all he had to do was not get in the way.

-

He could feel Hux's eyes on him and his apprentice as they played sabacc with the rest of the Knights. There was a new heat, a new curiosity, behind those blue eyes. Hux's heart beat at a faster tempo every time she smiled. She was radiant with glittering eyes and her easy laugh as she talked with Jeckhum between rounds. He couldn't help but touch her. He left his hand on her thigh to feel her muscles flex when she shifted in her seat at the table.

There was laughter and drinking and jokes about wound licking. It reminded him of the days when he'd only had Kin Al and Yideth beside him; back when he'd been fueled by something he'd hardly understood.

One by one, his Knights departed the casual party until it was just her, him, and Hux. She got up to use the refresher and giggled at the change in elevation. He grinned to himself because she felt so warm and happy. She managed to get to the 'fresher without any help, and he caught Hux's eyes.

In the quiet of Hux's quarters, they studied each other. He admired Hux's sharp cheekbones, sharper eyes, the elegance of his even jaw, the fullness of his lips. He thought about Hux undone, yelling and throwing things in a fit of pique. How Hux could deliciously rage. He was sheer destruction under all that self-restraint.

"Snoke once referred to you as a rabid cur," he softly said, and Hux's face shuttered as if he'd just been demoted. "At the time I agreed, but his assessment was inaccurate."

"Oh?" Hux blandly acknowledged as he stood from the table and went to the sideboard, empty tumbler in hand.

"You're not rabid, you're dangerous." _Vicious._

Hux sounded pleased when he replied. "Just like you."

He looked down at his drink in thought, seeing and shying away from the actuality of what Snoke had done to the both of them. His apprentice came out of the refresher before he could reply. She glanced between him and Hux, but said nothing as she took her glass to the sideboard. He suggested she drink some water and then Hux one-upped him by recommending food as well.

He reminded himself that he shouldn't get in the way, so he gritted his teeth and let Hux give her water and order food for the three of them. She perched on Hux's desk and finished her water as she met his gaze. After pushing her drained glass away, she leaned back on straight arms and arched her back.

He couldn't keep away from her any longer, and she smiled as he approached. He nudged between her legs and pulled her forward to feel her body against his. She let out a soft gasp at being manhandled and tilted her head back just enough to expose her delicate-skinned, graceful neck.

He bent over her and kissed her shoulder, her clavicle, and up her throat. She sighed into it and opened up to him. Then he realized Hux was right there next to her, watching them. He gentled his touch to let her concentrate because he wasn't going to thwart their seduction.

It barely took a minute before Hux surrendered and kissed her. From his up-close view, he observed Hux's mouth move against hers. Hux's cheeks were pink and his golden eyelashes fluttered as he gave as good as he got.

He decided to up the ante by slowly dragging the straps of her top down. He was grateful that she wore a scoop-necked tank which allowed for relatively easy access. He kissed his way down the silky skin of her upper chest and the top swells of her breasts. With another slow pull, her gorgeous tits popped out of over the bunched fabric.

Her gasp had Hux pulling back to look down her body. Hux watched him caress her and pull soft noises from her at his touch. Hux joined him in touching her, running a hand over her heaving chest until he got brave enough to tease a hardening nipple.

She pushed against their hands, whimpering for more. Every sound she let loose made his cock throb. A sweet mewl from her had him coming closer to giving up seducing and to outright demonstrating what he could do with her. He wanted Hux to see how good they were together.

The entry chime for a delivery derailed that plan, and he blocked the view from the main door with his body as he eased her top up her chest. She sat up and adjusted her clothing before looking up at him. She was so beautiful like this, and he tipped her head up to fully kiss her.

She tasted like Hux's whiskey, and he found himself not minding at all.

Behind him, he heard Hux puttering around with whatever food the droid had given him. There was the gurgle of water being poured into a glass. His apprentice nodded that they should join Hux, and he let his fingers trail down her jaw when he stepped away.

He was surprised to see real food for them on the table and not the standard slop that Hux usually ate-- _no wonder he was so skinny._ It was a good snack, and he didn't even mind the melted cheese holding all the components of the wrap-sandwich together. He was the first to finish and relaxed back in his chair as he finished his water.

He watched Hux watch her and he wanted to affirm that, yes, she was real. He could tell that Hux wanted her--her power, her body, her potential. Hux met his eyes over her shoulder and Hux's desires seemed to telegraph over the short distance.

He got up and rounded the table to knock Hux out of his silence. He tilted Hux's chin up and urged him to speak his mind. Hux let out a shallow breath and relaxed before he spoke:

"You have beautiful skin," Hux said to his apprentice. "And a pleasing face. I have admired you, and have desired to..." He seemed to steel himself. "To touch you as freely as Lord Ren."

She pointed out that Hux had not wanted her until he had figured out she had Force abilities. It was a strike against Hux, Ren knew. He kept quiet as Hux damned himself by admitting he had found her disposable.

He wanted to point out that he'd never found his apprentice disposable. She had been precious from the beginning--even when she'd fought him and denied her newly awakened power. He swallowed back his comment and let her decide how she wanted this situation to go.

He could feel her anger and the dark side within her, though, like a healthy fire against the cold, and it spurred him on to comment. "Yes, suddenly she was worth your time."

Hux quickly replied, "Because she was important to you." He turned to her and continued, "I am sorry for underestimating you. It will never happen again."

Hux felt sincere as far he could ever feel genuine. She didn't seem so easily appeased, and he was proud of her for it. She put the weight of the Force behind her words as she asked Hux what he wanted from this encounter--from both of them.

And much to his dismay, Hux resisted. Hux stiffened in his chair and silently fought to keep his words at bay. He ran the back of his knuckles against Hux's firm jaw and hollowed cheek.

She stood next to him and looked down at Hux for a moment before bending. Hux's eyes darted to her kiss-plush mouth and tried to breathe through his mental strain of keeping quiet. She was merciless as she moved forward and kissed Hux.

When she pulled back, she whispered, "Tell me."

Hux groaned and then let go. "I want to fuck that gorgeous mouth of yours. I want to come all over you."

He could see it in Hux's mind. Hux wanted to thread his fingers into her hair and thrust his cock into her hot mouth. Hux wanted her gagging and gasping and hanging onto his hips to steady herself while he found his orgasm.

He didn't like the thought of Hux using her--even though she didn't seem to have a problem with his confession. He had to set limits because she wasn't here for Hux's pleasure. He gripped Hux's sleek, ginger hair and pulled his head back.

"On my terms, General," he warned.

Hux was polite when he agreed, hearing the unspoken threat. Hux looked up at him with lust which made his blue eyes gleam. Hux was flushed and yearning and _dangerous._ He didn't fight with his own urge to bend and devour Hux.

He didn't hold back when he kissed Hux. Every drag of Hux's lips against his, every flick of his tongue, felt like a _yes_. _Yes, touch me. Yes, taste me. Yes, ravage me._

When he pulled back, he found himself breathless and _hungry_. He pulled Hux's chair away from the table, and she claimed her throne of Hux's lap. He hadn't realized she had undone Hux's tunic to expose his undershirt while they had kissed, but with her on Hux's lap, he couldn't see much anyway.

He touched her bare arm, needing to feel her, and she looked up at him. He had a second to process that they were really doing this before she pulled him down for a kiss. He felt too hot for the henley which he wore; his clothes were too tight, the fabric was the wrong sensation. But he couldn't give in yet. They couldn't give Hux that which he hadn't earned.

She writhed in Hux's lap with a moan, and he inched back to see that Hux was teasing her nipples through her clothes. He ordered Hux to pull her top down again and taste her. She didn't bite back the delicious sounds now, and he wanted to hear that Hux was pleasing her. She nodded that it was good and reached for him to come closer.

In reply, he stroked her wet bottom lip, completely entranced by how soft and flushed it was. She met his eyes and opened her mouth to suck at his fingers. He told her how sweet she was as his gut tightened in want. She gave his fingers a little nibble before releasing them.

Her lips parted as Hux fondled and kissed her breasts. He reached down to slide his fingers into the soft locks of Hux's hair. Hux catted into his touch as he kissed up her breastbone.

"You want us both, don't you, General?" he purred.

Hux stared at her as he tightly held her close.

He demanded a reply, and Hux growled that he did. She took Hux's face between her hands and ran her thumbs over his high cheekbones. She looked so benevolent, so delighted, but he could feel under it a current of destruction.

"You will have us, then," he assured Hux as he put a hand on her back. "But not tonight."

She suggested that they give Hux a little taste, and he knew she meant to ruin Hux. No one was ever going to be able to give Hux what they could. Together they could own his fantasies and invade his every desire.

He smirked back at her and said, "Absolutely."

She didn't hesitate to unzip Hux's slacks and reach under the starched fabric to feel his dick. Hux surrendered to it, sagging in the chair and groaning. She tucked herself right against Hux and sucked at his neck. Hux let out a needy whine and squirmed against her.

As she lowered herself to the floor, Hux hotly whispered, _"Fuck."_

He cupped Hux's throat, keeping him in place, and swooped down to kiss him again. Hux sucked at his tongue and bottom lip, getting more worked up as the two of them ravished him. Hux ended the kiss with a broken gasp against his lips.

He glanced down to see her tonguing Hux's erection. He should hate it, and every possessive cell in his body told him that was his mouth to enjoy, but he knew that wasn't true. She was using Hux for her own gains, and he couldn't get in the way of that.

And the more that he watched her, the more he liked what he saw. He never got to see her this way because he was always so overcome by her that he could never concentrate. But here, now, watching her with Hux, he could.

Hux swore again, and he felt a new kinship with his co-commander. He rhetorically asked if she was too much. He commented that it was difficult for Hux to keep control. He felt Hux's agreement and then bent to murmur in his ear, "And you can't wait to see what else she can do."

Hux assented and looked up at him. There was a yearning he didn't expect, and it made him straighten up. He confessed that she was the best he'd ever had, she was the only one that mattered. Hux's dark gaze traveled over his torso and focused on his groin.

_Ah._

He didn't think Hux should see him like that yet, but he could permit Hux to feel him. He urged Hux to lean on him, and Hux did so willingly. Hux pressed his hot cheek against the hard ridge of his cock and let out a stilted breath as they both watched her suck Hux's cock.

He couldn't keep his hips from rolling against the pressure of Hux's temple. She must've sent Hux a mental image because he tensed and warned that he was close. She ignored the warning and kept going, and Hux suddenly sobbed and turned his face to pant against his crotch.

He watched as Hux came in sticky surges on her tongue, her lips, her cheek. She gentled Hux through it as she caught her breath. To him, she looked like a debauched angel with her shining eyes and soft skin and wild hair.

"Clean up your mess, General," he ordered.

Hux gathered himself, coaxed her back onto his lap, and delicately licked his come off her until she was clean. Hux kissed her after he was finished, and they both luxuriated in the aftermath of his orgasm. Her breasts were still bare, and Hux grazed a peaked nipple with his thumb. Her response was heady like a potent hit of spice.

Before it went farther, he put a hand on Hux's shoulder and pulled him back. "That's enough," he told Hux.

She seemed to remember herself then and righted her disheveled clothing. This was all on his terms, and he was finished with indulging Hux for the night. He wanted to get his apprentice back to their room and give her all the adoration she deserved.

He retrieved her jacket from the back of her abandoned chair. He was thankful that his briefs were tight enough to keep his erection against his body. He didn't need any crew to see him walking around with a boner like a kid.

As he turned, he saw that she had gotten off Hux's lap, but had placed a finger over his lips and was whispering something to him. Hux seemed to acquiesce to whatever she had said and relaxed in his chair.

He helped her put her jacket on and let his hand linger on the small of her back. He bid Hux a good night, and Hux returned the sentiment to both of them. There was something in Hux's blue eyes that said more than the standard good night. It was as though they had awoken something inside Hux--a clawing, covetous desperation.

Hux wanted more, wanted it all, wanted _them._

He couldn't help but think the entire evening was a success as he ushered his apprentice back to their quarters.


	15. The Gaps Are Enormous, We Stare From Each Side

It was early in the cycle and his apprentice was already busy with consort duties. This first time, it was to be measured down in Tailoring and pick out gowns to wear when on Hux's arm. He tried to keep his mind off her being paraded around as though Hux had earned her hand.

How had his grandfather stood by as he pretended he and Padme weren't married? Had other senators, delegates, representatives flirted with her? Did she have to humor them all the while gritting her teeth?

Leia never had any answers about his blooded grandparents since she had only known Breha and Bail Organa. And Luke had claimed he didn't know, but it had always tasted of a lie. Luke had never liked to talk about Anakin Skywalker or Padme Amidala.

He was left, as usual, with no resolution.

After he'd sonicked away the sleep sweat, rinsed out his mouth, and shaved, he got on comfortable training gear and sat down before Darth Vader's helmet. He'd begun to think of the face of Vader's mask as the real face. Anakin had been a fleshy, scarred prison for Vader, and Vader had been the shadow self, the deeper self, the actuality.

He no longer had a mask to be his shadow self. Starkiller had seen to that. His prison was the legacy of that illustrious Skywalker blood. It had been why he had killed Ben Solo--he'd had to escape it, distance himself, somehow.

He wondered if he was still doomed to repeat Anakin Skywalker's marriage with any lover he took. Would he have to hide his attachment for fear of it being exploited? Even from within?

He was beginning to think he wouldn't. His apprentice had been troubled when told the truth about his family, but she hardly seemed interested in Darth Vader as a person. It appeared as though all she wanted was to train and be with him. He felt her true affection--even attraction--for only him when they were together.

It confused him, sometimes. She was too good for him.

He closed his eyes and breathed in deep the recycled air. He could feel his bond with her as if it were a web connecting them. Different synapses lit up with every word exchanged. Lightning and sweet breeze rushed through the causeway between them. And he lingered there in the in-between for who-knows-how-long.

She came back to their quarters all cagey. She wouldn't meet his eyes for longer than a few seconds. He couldn't figure out why, but he knew she was anxious about something. He looked her over to see nothing out of place.

Except for a new bacta patch on her finger.

He asked about it, and she obliquely replied before tearing the little bandage off and depositing it in the disposal slot in the refresher. He trailed after her and watched her wash her hands of any bacta. She didn't look in the mirror and she wouldn't look at him.

The promise he'd made to not read her came taunting him now. He shouldn't have promised because it would make things so much easier. Then came the thought: What if she were keeping something from him? Could she be sick? Had Hux done something in the short time she'd been away?

As her master, he ordered, "Tell me."

She gathered herself and finally turned to him. "My... My bleeding is late, and I was worried. I thought... I don't know what I thought."

He knew _exactly_ what she had thought. While the thought of a child wasn't abhorrent, it wasn't entirely welcomed either. He would be a terrible father, in any case. And he wouldn't condemn another person to inherit the same prison which he'd been neglected in for way too long.

He asked if she were still worried, and she shook her head, telling him everything was fine. _Normal._ She gave him a grimace that was supposed to pass for a grin. If she had been so concerned, why hadn't she brought it up? Why did she feel the need to sneak in a visit to the med bay? Was there no trust in him to handle the situation?

He voiced his questions, but she dismissed them, saying that she hadn't entertained the possibility until now. She explained that the tailor had asked about her menstrual cycle because of body changes and that it was then that she had realized she hadn't bled. She had gone to the med bay and had been informed the pills she was taking could alter her cycle.

"You went to the doctor," he confirmed.

She held up her hand that had had the patch and snapped, "Yes, I had a test."

He asked what if she were, but she continued to be defensive and talk about the pills. Like she didn't know he meant if she were pregnant. He blocked her way out of the refresher and asked if she would've told him. She said something about her boots to completely evade the question, so he demanded to know if she would've told him.

"Stars, Kylo! _Yes!"_ she exploded and kicked her boots across the refresher. _"Yes_ , I would have told you! Why would I _not_ tell you? _What the hell?_ Who do you think I am? Do you not trust _me?"_ She shoved past him, threw her jacket on the chair, and stormed into the training room.

He wanted to growl and fight back, defend himself, because he was trying his best to be a decent partner and master and lover. And, apparently, failing spectacularly. _Again._

He wasn't going to prevail this way, he knew. He had to utilize a different tactic.

"I trust you," he offered as he stood in the training room doorway.

"Really?" she asked. "Because you have a strange way of showing it."

She plucked a practice sword from the rack on the wall and adjusted her hold on it by sweeping it in front of her. He debated about offering her a duel, but he didn't want either of them to end up in the bacta tank. He didn't know what to offer. Nothing he was doing was right. At this rate, she wouldn't want him anymore.

He offered her a way out by stating that they could cease relations if the pills weren't working out. Her movements stuttered, and she told him she was fine. Which was a stretch, in his opinion. She was stressed. Hux was an added complication. Maybe they both needed a break.

He came closer, confident that she wouldn't lash out, and said, "I don't think the added stress is beneficial to either of us." He tried to be diplomatic--admittedly, a first for him--by putting it on both their shoulders. "We have to remain focused."

She practically snarled out a _fine_. "Go focus on something else, then."

He said her name, hoping against hope she would see reason. In return, she ignored him--like a brat. He left the training room instead of forcing her to acknowledge him and walked up to his grandfather's ruined helmet. Darth Vader would certainly not help him in this situation. Vader would've probably choked her into unconsciousness for pissing him off.

He turned back to face the room, seeing her clothes haphazardly strewn across the main room. "Master of the Knights of Ren, heir to Darth Vader," he whispered to himself as he hung up her jacket. "And I'm picking up clothes like I'm a _karking cleaning droid_."

There was a small pile of laundry that hadn't made it down the clothes slot yet, and he kicked her socks over to it. He was above this drivel. They would finish this. Would she control the situation?

_Fuck no._

He marched back into the training room. "I won't focus on something else. You will not ignore me." She lowered her swords and warily watched him. He continued, "You need to tell me what you're thinking. You've told me not to read you, and I try to obey your wishes, so you need to tell me things."

She brought up body autonomy, like it had anything to do with what they were discussing. He was supposed to be taking care of her. If she didn't include him, how was he supposed to take care of her? If she had a problem, he did as well.

She assured him, in the loudest tone one could use in conversation, that she could take care of herself. He dropped civility and yelled back that she should've come to him. She sneered that hand-holding was unnecessary and that this whole thing wasn't a big deal.

He told himself he wouldn't raise a hand to her, though he did feel like shaking some sense into her. He bit back the urge to rage and took a breath to calm himself.

"And, anyway, the doctor recommended something for my datapad to track my cycle," she added in a calmer voice.

He wanted it, too. He needed to know because he couldn't be there for her if he never knew what was going on with her. He assured her he wanted to take care of her.

"Well, yelling at me and telling me you don't want me anymore is not taking care of me," she replied.

He frowned because she had started it, but said instead: "I never said I don't want you."

She pointed out that he was quick to take sex off the table. Obviously, he didn't want her to feel pressured and told her as much. Her brows furrowed, and she said she'd never felt that.

Something uncoiled in his chest because he knew he'd been running on lust at the start. He hadn't been able to help himself; just having her in the same room was enough to short-circuit his brain and make his dick hard. He was better now, but if he could have his way, he'd take her away from their duties and training to fuck her until neither of them could literally move.

He supposed his relief must've shown on his face because she dropped everything to hurry to him. She pulled him down for a kiss and declared that he'd never forced her.

"In the beginning..." he argued.

"I didn't like you, but I was curious."

He'd known that and silently told her that he'd taken advantage of her curiosity. He knew she still didn't like certain aspects of him or his actions.

He brought up her desire for vengeance, and she didn't deny it. If she had run away in the beginning, he would've followed her. She could've planned a trap, and he still would've walked into it. Even without the bond, they were connected. He would not ignore what the Force had shown him throughout the years.

She gave him another kiss, longer this time and somehow sad. His hands had seemed to naturally gravitate to her waist, and he gave her a squeeze. He much preferred kissing her over yelling about birth control methods and her keeping things from him. He acknowledged to himself that nothing had actually been resolved, but at least he'd had his say. If she chose to cut him out in the future, he'd have to take action.

In the quiet of their quarters, he asked if she was hungry since neither of them had eaten yet. She gave him an affectionate look that made him warm and told him she was. They separated, and he went to comm for a meal while she wandered back to the training room.

She didn't sit with him when she ate, and he tried not to feel anything about that. He kept himself distracted by scrolling through his datapad. He'd been meaning to get her more substantial clothing, more pills, and a means to carry Darksaber with her. He had those things sent to the usual FO port to be sorted and forwarded to the _Finalizer_. He figured they should arrive before they left for that damn commanders meeting.

He glanced in her direction from his place at the retractable table. He couldn't see her since the wall was in the way, but he could feel her. She was ruminating about something, but he didn't probe--though he very much wanted to.

Knowing she was distracted, he dug through the browsing history of his holonet interface to find the peignoir he'd seen weeks ago. He had dismissed it after admiring it, thinking that his apprentice wouldn't appreciate such a gift. But now with Hux buying her all those luxurious dresses, and none of them really hers, he thought getting her something beautiful of her own would be treasured.

He didn't contemplate the matter too much. He picked her size, the color, and the style of panties. The netsite recommended something to complement her--something for him. He'd never bothered with anything of the sort before. No one had ever wanted him dressed for long, so presentation had never been a priority. However, he would look coarse in the standard-issued briefs in comparison to her in pale blue cyrene silk. Not that he wasn't coarse, but he didn't want to look it.

He chose black velvet pants and his inseam, and added it to the order. He felt jittery after purchasing the lingerie; not turned on, just off-kilter, like an unexpected change in altitude. He needed to get out of the suite.

He got on his socks and boots, told his apprentice he was going down to the training center, seeing as Kin Al and Jeckhum were likely there, and almost left without waiting for a reply. She called him back and stood in the doorway of their private training room. He turned to look at her, but she crooked a finger and beckoned him closer.

At first, he wanted to ignore it, but he was weak. He came to her, expecting some barbed comment to start their fight all over again, only to find her putting her arms behind his neck and giving him a startlingly sweet kiss. Her delightful unpredictability threw him, but he wouldn't ever deny her a kiss.

He left for the training center even though the jittery feeling had gone. He found his Knights where he expected them and silently joined them. They didn't ask where his apprentice was nor did they make any comment about her sleeping anything off. He caught them sharing a look, but he didn't say anything--this time.

He was mid-pull-up when he heard her miserable sob. He dropped himself to the deck and was paralyzed with indecision. She wasn't in pain and wasn't calling for him, but she was upset. The bond was silent as still water, though.

As he tried to parse out what he was getting, Jeckhum put a hand on his shoulder. His face betrayed him, _as it always would_ , and Jeckhum asked if he was okay. He didn't know how to answer that. He cracked his neck and announced that he was done for the day.

Jeckhum took a step back with a teasing smirk. "Your form sucked anyway."

"Thanks for the critique, druknozzle."

Jeckhum laughed with a shove to his shoulder. He grinned back and took the cue to go. He left Jeckhum and Kin Al with a rude gesture.

"Anytime, my liege!" Kin Al called after him.

He grabbed a small towel from the stack by a support column and patted his face dry. He wished he could take a cool shower, but water was always to be conserved. The best he could do was order a few pitchers of ice water. He debated about abusing his commander privileges as he left the training center until a crisp voice interrupted.

Hux. _Of course._

"May I walk with you," Hux declared. He knew that Hux meant _I'm going to walk next to you and talk at you and there's nothing you can do about it._

That wasn't entirely true, he knew. He could stop Hux with the Force, choke him into silence; maybe even mind-trick him into forgetting that he wanted to march through the ship with him.

"What is it, General?" he prompted.

"I've been reading military history lately--command posts and duties, strategic maneuvers, and the like."

"Sounds educational."

Hux hummed in agreement. "I've been thinking about the future-- _our future_." Hux paused, maybe for dramatic effect, he didn't know. "When I am voted as leader of the First Order, nothing will change for you. I want you to remain a commander and Master of the Knights of Ren, but I invite you to be my second, my Lord Commander, if you wish."

"What would that entail?" he asked as they finally got to the turbolifts.

"Nothing that you're not already doing."

The lift pinged open, and they let the crewmen file out in silence. When they entered the lift, he punched in a commander-override express direct code to his quarter's level.

"What about her?" he asked as the lift started to move. He knew Hux would know exactly who he was talking about.

"She remains your apprentice and my consort."

"And then what?" He knew Hux had far-reaching plans.

"And then what what?"

"You're going to try for the throne. I sense it in you."

Hux was quiet for a moment, and he could feel the gears whirl inside Hux's analytical head. He patted his face with the towel draped over his shoulder before crowding Hux to the wall.

"Emperor Armitage Hux, hm?" he murmured.

Hux met his eyes, those usually bloodless cheeks flushed as he looked on, and nodded. "I thought you could be my executor, my hand, the one who can carry out my law."

He looked over Hux's handsome face. "Is this a declaration, Hux?"

"I... I-- I just-- I want you both at my side."

"And in your bed."

"Until I am married, yes."

"Even after, I suppose, too. There's always artificial insemination for your empress."

"I do ask one thing, however."

"Of course you do."

"I don't know if you two have an agreement. Or if nothing will change between you two in the future, but as my hand and her as my consort, you'll need to stay unmarried."

"No--"

The elevator announced his floor before he could say more, and he slammed his hands against the wall before pushing away. Fuck Hux for thinking he could dictate when they could marry--if ever. Knowing Hux, he'd deny them marriage until one of them was dead.

"Only until I have arranged a marriage of my own," Hux said as the lift doors opened.

Luckily, no one was waiting in the vestibule as he strode from the bank of turbolifts. He knew Hux was following him, and closing the distance with his long legs, but he physically ignored his co-commander. Mentally, however, was a different story. He could hear Hux think that she should never want to marry such a temperamental, selfish nob.

Hux couldn't marry her, naturally, seeing as she was a nobody from a nowhere planet. But, she would be wise to not tie herself down just yet. Hux could see the appeal of the aforementioned nob, though: power, skill, good looks, great body, and a big dick--if what he felt wasn't an overestimation.

Hux was anxious to see him naked.

He stopped in the middle of the passageway and turned to Hux. "You need to leave me alone right now." He didn't put a lot of power behind his words, but he did feel the Force in them.

Hux looked him over before agreeing. "Very well."

The First Order _still_ owned him even with Snoke gone, he thought, and he should've taken the role of Supreme Leader himself. He had been Snoke's sole apprentice, after all. And Hux would be his to command now if he'd taken control.

He was afraid that he had made a serious mistake by listening to her. He had given it all up for her, but she would repay him by staying by his side. They were bound and bonded, and he would make sure she didn't forget it.

He didn't watch Hux walk away as he stormed to his quarters. He didn't greet her after he entered, nor she him. He went directly to the refresher and sonicked away all the sweat and stress he could. He allowed the Force to flow and ebb through him. It became apparent that it didn't matter if he'd made a mistake by not taking control of the Order. He was on this path now with her. He reassured himself by realizing she had never once thought of leaving.

In all actuality, she had hated to go with Yideth. And that had been before Coruscant and murdering Snoke. He had to trust this process, because that's what this was.

When he came out of the refresher, he dressed in clean clothes and padded into the private training room feeling better than before. He sat down and softly told her about Hux's grand plans. She seemed unconcerned about the whole matter.

He thought she'd be disappointed by marriage being off the table. Wasn't the logical outcome between them marriage or at least pledging to each other? He hadn't considered the matter until now because he'd never found someone like her. However, now that he thought about it, it sounded right. He liked the thought of someone to call his own--especially her.

"What if I don't want to pledge to you?" she asked.

Hux's earlier words rang through his mind as she stood and left the room. He watched her find her socks and sit to slip them on. He skidded out into the main room and told her the truth--the issue hadn't been an issue until Hux blocked the possibility for maybe years.

She stated that his desire had nothing to do with her. He disagreed because this had _everything_ to do with her, and he told her that as he crouched down.

She stood over him and concocted somehow that he wanted to _own_ her. He was struck by the echo of his own thoughts that he'd had about the First Order owning him. He didn't want her to feel the same and reached out to stop her.

She dodged him, outright hissed at him, and threw him back with the Force. He settled a few feet away and silently seethed.

"That's not--" he began, but cut himself off. "I thought you would want..." _I thought you would want me._

She yelled, "I don't want to be _owned! I'm not chattel!"_

"That's not what I mean!" he reflexively yelled back and then ducked his head, feeling his eyes water. "I want to be _yours_."

She scoffed and told him that was the same thing. But it wasn't the same thing at all. He rolled his calves under him and watched as she got her jacket on. He couldn't look at her. He didn't want to see the disdain in her eyes. She must think him a fool, a weakling, and completely unworthy.

She approached and gently combed his hair back from his forehead. Her delicate touch was almost worse than a slap to the face at how it speared right through his chest. He closed his eyes and let it happen.

"Remember, you're already mine," she whispered.

He asked where she was going and dreaded what she would say. She told him Hux and didn't wait for a reponse before making her way out of their quarters.

Of course, it was Hux. It seemed spineless to be relieved it wasn't simply away from him, her master. She had a point of contention with Hux, which meant she was blaming Hux as much as him. It made the tension leave his shoulders, and he sagged in his seated position. He tilted his face up and felt hot tears roll down the sides of his face.


	16. I Can Be A Lone Wolf With You

He didn't have long to get himself together before she came back. He changed into his tunic and trousers, got his boots on, and snapped the belt around his waist. The last thing he did before leaving their quarters was attach his lightsaber to his belt.

His thoughts were like tangled cords in his mind: the shackles of ownership, an atypical marriage, Hux's jealousy, a lost rulership, the unknowable future. How was he supposed to know which to focus on? All of it seemed like a priority, but none of it was taking precedence. It was all there as a mess to be sorted out.

In some ways, it made him long for a time when the reins were in Snoke's hands. He hadn't had to decide because Snoke's agenda had always come first. His service to a higher cause, to his grandfather's legacy, would have been the prime concern.

Now he was free and didn't know what to do.

He was unbalanced. His energy was going in all directions and none of it under his own command. His apprentice was suffering for it, too. He was supposed to be her rock and yet here he was, avoiding problems by retreating into the deepest part of the _Finalizer_.

The humming of the multiple ion engines was more apparent down here in the aft engineering sector. He could feel them as a rumbling in his chest, as if a purring cat was resting on him. The Force was quiet in this part of the ship--not that he couldn't feel it, but it was softer and easier to ignore.

Perhaps the best thing he could do was focus once more on his grandfather's legacy and rid the galaxy of Jedi. They were weak and corrupt and would continue to be the downfall of any ruling party. The New Republic had rested upon the lies of the Jedi, of what Luke Skywalker had done in their name, and look what happened to them. In a matter of moments, Starkiller Base had seen to their utter annihilation. And where had Skywalker been?

In hiding, alone, rotting, drawn back from the galaxy like the coward he knew Luke to be.

Once his apprentice was fully trained and ready, he would take her and the Knights to put an end to his duplicitous uncle. He would find Rey as well since she had probably sought Luke out by now. He would redress all the wrongs which had plagued him.

The Jedi would be no more.

And he could've made ending the Jedi his immediate priority if he were in charge of the First Order. Instead, he had stepped back to let high command dole out responsibilities like some pinched-lipped schoolmarm. Hux was going to take the lead; it was almost an understood amongst the crew.

The commanders meeting was coming up in a matter of cycles. He could eliminate all of them and take the First Order for himself. His apprentice wouldn't have to indulge Hux ever again--nor would he. She would be his lady, _his wife_ , and the Knights would be his guard. They could take the galaxy region by region, from The Deep Core to the Outer Rim.

He could rule like Darth Vader would've done if he had been given enough time and not yoked by his master. He could be emperor and she would be his empress. A crown of kyber and a dress of silver and gold for his beloved. Their lightsabers at their respective waists, their combined power cowing anyone who would stand up against them-- _for a time_.

He knew his history well enough to know that no empire lasted forever. They usually couldn't survive one person's lifetime, let alone a family dynasty. He wouldn't have children, anyway.

So, that left that possibility as a nice fantasy to visit. She wouldn't want to have all the pressures of diplomacy and politics weighing her down. Truthfully, neither would he. He didn't have the mind for it, either. However, he could begrudgingly admit, Hux did. Hux thrived in it. Perhaps then it was better that Hux be in charge, which in turn gave him and his apprentice freedom.

He hadn't felt either Hux or her for hours. He hoped she had come back to their quarters after confronting Hux. He detested the thought of them being alone together for too long. Hux would probably try to lure her away with promises of power and respect. It was all lies; she would never be special to Hux other than as a Force-user he fucked now and again and a symbol he would trot out like a favored pony.

He found the nearest commboard and scanned his hand to log in to the system. The ledger for his quarters logged only one person entering their rooms shortly after he had left. No one had come or gone in that time. She was alone and hopefully resting.

He checked his messages to find one from Hux. With a roll of his eyes, he opened it.

> In extreme poor judgement, I have said some things which were ultimately trivial, yet upsetting. It was brought to my attention that the motivation behind my words was not productive for the three of us. I extend a genuine apology with a vow to think carefully on how my words can affect us.
> 
> We can be unstoppable. We are the First Order. I will not have us implode because of pettiness. Snoke would relish in the distress which is currently between us, but he has been destroyed. And in keeping with his demise, I would like to raze that which he would foster.
> 
> The future is ours to decide, and I decide to travel it with you and your apprentice/my consort.
> 
> There is also a military matter on which I would like your input. The TIE engineering team has come up with a new TIE/vn craft, but its specs are quite challenging for the typical pilot. They're calling the model Silencer. When I read through them, I thought of you. I have attached said specs and holo-blueprint for you to examine.
> 
> My additions would be for customizing the flight controls specifically for you. Sienar-Jaemus will refine the onboard systems using your post-flight reports as well. With your approval, I shall have them manufacture a prototype.

How the hell was he supposed to interpret _that?_ Unproductive motivations? A genuine apology? Hux wanted to remain by their side? What had his apprentice done to Hux in that short time?

He came to the conclusion that she must've used a mind trick. She had barely begun to explore the mind trick, but she'd had to have used it to get this result. What else could he think when presented with _this?_

Or could it be a power move on Hux's part? The _Silencer_ was obviously a ploy to get on his good side--get him to lower his defenses. It could even be used to eliminate him altogether with a faulty prototype. He knew that Hux had done worse things in the past.

He supposed it was easier to play convinced and accept the apology at face value. Perhaps he could throw in something nice or polite or at least welcoming. However, before he could do that, he had to look over the prototype TIE.

He read through the specs and found them remarkable. The top speed of it was impressive, as was the armament and response time. The starfighter had an extra set of heavier laser cannons, concussion/mag-pulse warheads, and proton torpedoes. It was a pilot's wet dream, and it was to be his.

If this was Hux's way of an apology, it was masterfully done.

While still alone in the corridor, he brought up the holo-blueprint and stood back to see it in its entirety. He wondered if a starfighter could look mean because this one certainly did. The wings were split and pointed at the front to shelter the heavy cannons. It looked like the pilot sat in the octagon-shaped clear-durasteel windshield of the cockpit for better visuals.

He spun the holo-blueprint around and upside down to look at it from every angle. It looked clean. The hardware made sense to him. There was nothing that displeased him.

He closed the holo-blueprint and opted to reply to Hux.

> The Silencer, along with your suggestion of customization, has my full approval.

He floundered for what to say next. He couldn't ruin what had been started between them, though he wanted to tell Hux to eat shit. He stood there for a moment before wrenching a neutral response out of his brain as he typed. He hoped it sounded welcoming enough, but not overly enthusiastic. He wasn't fond of written communications anymore.

> I appreciate your apology. We shall move forward together, the three of us. When you are ready, we will be waiting.

He didn't bother with second-guessing and sent the reply. He logged out of the commboard and left the engineering sector of the ship. It was getting late, and he'd been gone for hours. The thought struck him as he made his way to the closest bank of turbolifts that he had done exactly as Han had when things got tough.

He had run away.

How weak to flee in the face of adversity, he silently berated. He wouldn't hide anymore. He would face every challenge put before him. His apprentice had doubts about committing to him, he would prove to her his worthiness. Hux wanted them as lovers but also wanted to drive a wedge between him and his apprentice, and he would outmaneuver the good general. When the Jedi attempted to throw the galaxy into chaos once more, he would make sure there was order by eliminating them one by one.

He centered himself as much as he was able before entering their quarters. The space was only lit by starlight, and she was asleep with her now-dark datapad forgotten against the port window. He changed for bed and used the refresher as quietly as he could.

She awoke as he stood at her side of the bed, admiring her. She stared back for a second before rolling onto her back, and he felt that was opening enough to kneel on the bed next to her. He got right to the point and requested she allow him to convince her to pledge herself to him as he threw a leg over her hips to settle some of his weight on her thighs.

She was silent for too long before softly asking him why. He didn't understand, and she clarified by asking why she needed to be convinced. She asked why what they had wasn't enough.

"But I thought--"

She cut him off, stating: "You assume I need that, but I don't, Kylo. _I don't._ "

His mind flashed through so many retorts at once that they overwhelmed him. He settled on the topic of gossip, that anyone who would learn of her circumstances would think her some kept woman or at worse a fancy fucktoy passed between Hux and himself.

She shrugged against the bed. "So? If being Hux's consort will get them thinking I'm a whore, marrying you won't disabuse them of the idea."

He'd kill anyone who thought ill of her, but he couldn't tell her that. It would get them nowhere in this conversation.

"You're not a whore," he all but growled.

"And you know that." She nodded.

He asked if that was enough. Her gaze softened as the corners of her mouth lifted. She ran her warm, petite hands up the sides of his hips to his waist.

"You're enough," she soothed him. "Aren't you mine?"

He couldn't take it anymore and bent to kiss her. She kissed him back and ran her hands up his flanks. Every caress of her lips felt like a reminder of a connection he hadn't known he'd needed, like he'd been kissing her for a thousand years.

-

After waking and cleaning up, they did their warm-up together in their private training room. She kept stealing glances at him as though he were something forbidden. Her very presence made him feel aware of every breath he took, every time he had to bend or flex during his stretches. Her gaze felt different than a stranger's heated look; she had something better to offer than a cheap night in cheaper lodgings.

It kept up like that through their late breakfast and Force-practice, and meditation on his part was a joke. He became acutely aware that all he had done with her last night was hold her. She had practically melted against him, letting him provide all the comfort she'd needed.

After meditation, he crawled to her and watched her bite at her bottom lip. Something about her body language unfurled, though she remained still. It was enthralling then to watch her unfold her legs as he drew closer. He got right between her thighs and reached behind her to pull her up onto his lap.

She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed her belly right to his. He studied her face, the arch of her brows, her eyelashes, her soft cheeks. He wanted to touch her all over, but kept his hands under her ass, holding her securely.

"You've been watching me," he observed.

She didn't bother to deny it. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"You didn't. I like it."

She gave him this pleased, yet coy look and smoothed her hands over his shoulders to get her fingers in his hair. He closed his eyes to savor her touch until she shifted in his hold and placed a delicate kiss on his lips. Through slitted eyes, he watched her pull back a fraction before wrapping her arms behind his neck and fully kissing him.

He wanted to get lost in it and keep going until they were pulling clothes off each other, but he had to maintain focus. He broke the kiss and dragged his fingers under the waistband of her leggings. She slowly undulated against him, rubbing her breasts against his chest.

"I want to try something special," he confided.

She bit her lip and then asked, "What do you have in mind?"

He slid one hand beneath her underwear and down the cleft her rear to press against her hole. He used one finger to circle and tease it as he watched her reaction. She let out a little whimper, but nothing that sounded distressed to him. She met his gaze as she moved with his finger, and he watched as the dark pupils of her eyes expanded.

"Yeah?" he asked.

She nodded and whispered _okay_. He pressed a little more firmly against her anus and stroked it in reply. She let out a breath and arched her back. As her head tilted back, he leaned forward to lick and leave sucking kisses on her neck.

"So sweet," he murmured against her skin. "I promise to make you feel good."

She ducked down to kiss him again before saying, "You do."

He moved his hands up her back and spread his fingers wide to touch as much of her as he could at once. She settled against him to kiss him once more--her mouth open and her tongue teasing his. She began to kiss down his jaw to his ear, giving a light suck at the lobe which had his eyes rolling back. She fisted his hair and eased his head back. At first it made him want to snap his teeth, but then she got her hot little mouth on him and he promptly forgot why he wanted to.

She sat back after a few hazy minutes--her mouth kiss-swollen and flushed, his nerves buzzing and so awake--and said that she should clean up. He looked up at her at a total loss of what to say. His first thought was to tell her to forget it, to get back to kissing him, but she seemed eager. And he had to snap at himself that she was eager to have _sex. Sex with him._

"Do you want some help?" he asked.

She giggled and pushed his hair away from his forehead. "No, I think I can figure it out," she said before getting to her feet. "I've already..." She waved her hands in the air as she backed away. "You know, earlier, so it shouldn't be a big deal. I'll use the sonic and clean really well."

He nodded as she turned and went to the 'fresher. He adjusted his erection and gave himself a squeeze. If he thought about her bent over and fingering herself in the sonic, he was going to come. But now that he had thought of it, he couldn't stop.

He shook himself and quickly got to his feet, letting his erection subside on its own. As he walked into the main room, he reached behind his neck and pulled his tank off. He threw it at one of the chairs and looked over to the bed to see it completely rumpled. He folded the top linens down and smoothed them out as much as possible and straightened the pillows. He got the lights down to half strength, increased the room temperature by a degree or two, and had to call it that. It wasn't what anyone would call romantic, but it was as good as it got on a Star Destroyer.

Just as he was taking off the last of his training gear, she came out of the refresher with her used clothes in her arms. She seemed a little less sure of herself, and he approached her and held out a hand to take her gear. She gave them over and fidgeted in her nudity as he laid them over the arm of a chair.

"We don't have to," he offered. He didn't want her to feel pressured. He wanted her to _want_ it.

"Are you kidding?" she asked, her tone incredulous. "I just went to a lot of trouble. We're doing this."

He grinned, unable to suppress it at her determination, and came up to her to take her face in his hands. "I'll get the lube. You get on the bed."

She said _okay_ between brief kisses. He ignored the swelling of his cock again and pulled himself away. By the time he came back from the refresher, lube in hand, she was sitting demurely on the mattress as she smoothed a hand over the neatened bed. He tossed the bottle onto the sheets and stood at the foot of the bed.

She looked up at him, but couldn't seem to stop glancing farther down. He could feel her gaze like she was actually touching him. He let her study him for a moment before hooking his thumbs in his briefs and tugging them down his thighs. Once his underwear hit his knees, he straightened and was grateful they gracefully fell to the deck.

He kicked them behind him and lowered himself to the bed in front of her. As he settled, she sat up and leaned towards him.

"You're gorgeous, you know that?" she softly insisted.

He really wasn't, but it was nice to hear. Instead of replying with something lame like _thank you_ , he bent and kissed her. Like this, with eyes closed and supple lips against his, he could forget about his too-big ears and awkwardly proportioned face.

Her hands smoothed over his chest, his shoulders, cradled his face. He scooted closer and put a hand at the small of her back to encourage her to get on her knees. He spread his thighs and pulled her close. Their kiss broke, but he didn't care, for her breasts were right at his chin. He cupped one and kissed the soft mound down to her nipple. He heard her breath catch in her throat as he gave her peaked nipple a little nip.

He mouthed his way to her other breast and gave it the same loving treatment as she pushed her hands into his hair. Her skin was almost satiny against his lips, and she smelled so good. He kissed the underside of her breast, letting the weight of her flesh mould to his mouth. Her ribcage rose and fell against his cheek, and he could hear her breaths becoming shallower and a little faster.

He rested his face against her breastbone and ran his hand down her body from her chest to the bottom of her hip. From there, he reached between her legs to feel her pussy. Her heat and initial wetness had him groaning--she felt perfect.

Above him, she whimpered and shimmied in his hold. He gently stroked her clit as his other hand skimmed from the small of her back down one round cheek of her ass and back again. She writhed, her hips flexing, and she leaned heavily against him. She was a delectable weight to bear.

"I want you to sit on my face," he whispered as he looked up at her. "Come in my mouth."

She cursed and squeezed her thighs together, trapping his hand. She got wetter, and he could smell the heady tang of it. He couldn't wait to taste her.

"You want that, sweetheart?" he asked.

She nodded and released him to collapse back on her calves. He sucked at his damp middle finger as he met her eyes. He wanted more of it, more of her-- _all of her_.

He crowded her back until she was braced on straight arms. "Taste yourself." He opened his mouth and let his tongue rest on the inner rim of his bottom lip. She sat up to meet him in an open-mouth kiss which had them both groaning.

She suddenly twisted and pushed at his shoulder, making him flop back on the bed. He purred and slid up the bed until his head hit one of the pillows. He flung it to the side and told her to hand him the bottle of lube. She gave the bottle a brief once-over before doing so.

From there, it was a blur of beautiful skin and slick fingers and her clit against his tongue and the tightness of her ass around his fingers. She was perfect and demanding as she came, and he was intoxicated and utterly besotted. He'd give her anything she wanted at this moment.

But then she begged to be fucked, and his ears rang as his balls drew up at her words.

He got her on her back, her head towards the foot of the bed, and told her to spread her legs. He pushed his fingers back in her ass and found her body relaxed and so hot. He couldn't wait anymore and told her.

"I want it, Kylo, give it to me," she moaned.

_"Fuck,"_ he cursed as he pressed his forehead to her shoulder.

He gathered himself and told her get on her knees as he stacked two pillows in front of her. He knew it would be easier in this position for her, but she didn't question it as she got into position. He made a place for himself behind her and traced the divine curve of her spine once she had settled her chest against the mattress.

Before he got too distracted by her, he got the bottle of thick lube. Its silken jelly texture was ideal to him, it even tasted like honey melon. He squeezed a generous blob of it on his already wet fingers and smeared the gel over his hard cock. As he tugged at his dick, he stared down between her legs. She was wet and flushed and open--primed to be taken.

He asked if she were ready and told her to bear down to make entry easier. To have the muscles of her ass around his fingers was one thing, but quite another to have them sliding up his cock. It was so intense, even with the slick ease of the lube, and he didn't know if he could keep moving without blowing his load.

He was halfway inside her when he heard her choke on her breath, so he stopped to ask if she were okay. She nodded and replied with a thready _uh-huh_. It made him pause and assess, but he found her pain-free and feeling full.

Instead of letting them adjust or catch their breath, she pushed back against him, taking more of his dick. He mindlessly moaned and followed her hips back down to the pillows. He rested his pelvis against her ass and simply tried not to immediately come.

He warned her he wasn't going to last because she felt so _good_ , and she told him to go slow. Slow was good, slow he could do. He bent to kiss her back before propping himself on his arms and steadily pumping his cock inside her.

She gasped out, "Keep going, don't stop! _Please don't stop!"_

He whispered back that he wouldn't and he didn't. Her ass was incredibly tight and so hot and slick. And he loved her so much. He wanted to feel her seize and thrash under him as she climaxed. He wanted to give it all to her.

She wiggled in his hold to reach between her legs. He wished he had the concentration to do it for her, but it was too much. Just as he was about to encourage her to come, the request-entry chime rang. He stuttered to a stop, and she downright growled at him that she was close to orgasm.

He sensed and stated that Hux was on the other side of the door. The thrill of Hux seeing them like this, of seeing her writhing and coming on his dick, shot through him and almost made him lose it.

His apprentice had encouraged Hux to visit, apparently, and he mentally groaned that he had as well with this message from the previous night. She stated that she had told him to drop by, but she hadn't thought it would be so soon. Evidently, _his_ message had tipped the scales for that. He wasn't sure he minded much, but she told him to ignore the summons.

He ground against her body and asked if she was so sure about ignoring Hux. Hux would probably put on a show for them, or at least dirty talk through one. He could feel, even without the Force, that she liked the idea. It made his mind fuzzy for a second.

"--yes, just don't pull out," she warned.

He asked if she were sure, and she snapped back, "Are you?"

It wasn't planned, but he could work with it. His cock was so heavy inside her, and it made him feel a little unhinged. He had to work through it to unlock the door and grant entry.

As the door slid opened, she got an elbow under her which pushed her back onto his cock. His eyes went half-mast at being fully encased by her tight ass. He knew Hux stepped inside their quarters, he could feel Hux getting closer, Hux's shock coloring the room in shades of hungry desire.

Hux stated that his shift had just ended; as if he would ever leave his duties for a bootycall. He didn't bother to call Hux out on the redundant statement, but replied by rising up and reassuring Hux he was right on time. He gave his apprentice's hips a questioning squeeze, and she nodded her head.

He watched Hux as he began pushing his cock in her ass once more. Hux was almost glassy-eyed as he approached them with his bottom lip between his teeth and his cheeks stained a darkening pink. Underneath him, she gasped and pushed back against him. He refocused on her to give her everything. He growled at her to come on his cock and sped up. He could hardly wait to feel her whole body tighten up and then drown him in her ecstasy.

And then it was upon her. She slumped to the bed with a shocked moan and buried her face in the sheets. Her body throbbed around his dick like it was trying to drain him. He gritted his teeth and fucked the noises right out of her until it was too much for him.

He cried out as his balls drew up and the burn of sharp pleasure tighten every muscle it could. Then all of it was surging him out of him in a potent rush which left him gasping and floored.

He curled forward and tried to catch his breath. His heart was beating so strongly that he could feel it strain in his chest. Lying down sounded beyond reasonable, so he eased his softening cock out of her and sunk to the bed beside her. She made a noise of protest, but said nothing more.

When she turned her face towards him, he saw the tracks of her tears. He hadn't thought he'd hurt her, but he held her face and studied her. She told him she was good, which was true, and pulled the one arm from under her body. He relaxed back against the bed and watched her.

She licked her wet fingers right in front of Hux, and he could feel the absolute envy coming from Hux. Hux didn't know who he wanted to be: Kylo for fucking her, or her for being fucked by Kylo. It was clear as a bell. It diverted his attention away from his apprentice.

"Take off your clothes," he challenged Hux without looking at him.

Hux hesitated, but she pointed out that was why Hux was there before he could protest. However, Hux contradicted the motive by stating he believed there were to be negotiations before any coitus. And Hux thought _he_ was the nob in this situation.

He rolled onto his back and pillowed his head on an arm, running the back of his free hand over his apprentice's side. After witnessing him fucking his apprentice, Hux thought negotiations where in order? _Banthashit._ He contended that Hux was not here to negotiate, and Hux asked what he was actually there for then.

He was tired of playing these inane games. "You're here to get off," he countered.

She slithered off the pillows, sat between them and him with her legs tucked under her, and looked up at Hux. "Please, I want to see you."

He could see Hux undress in his peripheral vision, but he didn't want to put too much pressure on the good general. Two sets of eyes might be one set too many. He rolled to the side and caressed his apprentice's back and buttocks. It was almost imperceptible, but she leaned into his touch. In a bold move, he pushed a finger into her loosened hole, to which she sharply inhaled. She was still so hot and now creamy.

Hux was only half-undressed, but that was enough for now. He pulled his finger out of her, sat up, and offered his slick finger to Hux with an order to taste her. This time, Hux didn't hesitate. Hux dropped to his knees and sucked at his finger, practically fellating it. His gut tightened at the very thought of Hux using that clever mouth of his for something more pleasurable than giving speeches.

He tempted Hux with questions of licking her, perhaps making her come again. Hux groaned in reply, and she began to protest. However, he knew better. He knew she wanted Hux's pretty imperial face between her legs and he couldn't really blame her.

He caressed Hux's soft tongue with the finger still in his mouth and told her that he knew what she desired and that he wanted it, too. He followed the pinkness of Hux's lips as she gave in to kiss Hux's sharp jaw and pale neck. He let it go on for a few minutes until he sensed that Hux needed to focus, so he directed his apprentice to turn around and present her backside to Hux.

Hux's gaze was practically glued to her luscious ass as she bent forward. "Seven hells," he whispered.

He couldn't help but feel a little smug--she had chosen him, after all. They both ran their hands over her warm skin. Hux spread her ass a little more to look at her, and he lay down to watch her inflamed face. He saw the second Hux's tongue touched her flash across her face. It was a revelation; this was how she looked when pleasured.

She writhed on her knees as Hux ate her ass. She pushed back against Hux's face, whimpering and quivering and reaching back to ground herself. He could see that she was at the precipice of orgasm and that all she needed was a little push. She moaned out _please_ as he reached between her legs to circle her clit. He breathlessly told her to come as he worked his finger around the sensitive bud of her clit.

She wailed into the sheets as she came. He could make out a gasped litany of fucks and he grinned in satisfaction. She slumped to the bed, seeming to be boneless, to recover.

Hux sat back, full of pride, and wiped at his mouth and chin with one hand. Hux commented that everything about her was pretty, even her feet. He couldn't agree more and said as much.

"Why don't you show her how pretty you think she is," he exhorted before turning to her and checking in.

She was warm and sated, and her eyes glimmered as she watched Hux undress behind him. After a moment, he felt the mattress dip and he turned to Hux. His first instinct was to provoke Hux with some barbed comment about something stupid like Hux's copper hair, but that was habit. Hux had said in his message last night that he didn't want to continue to weave the pattern Snoke had set up. They needed to cut the threads of it, and he knew this was a way.

As Hux drew closer, he reached out and tugged him in for a kiss. He didn't know how to express acceptance with his lips, but he tried. Hux was trying his best not to be unpleasant, and he needed to acknowledge that. For a minute, though, acceptance and good intentions went out the window. Hux kissed him back without hesitation and thrust his honey-melon-flavored tongue into his mouth. It was everything they could've had years ago.

The kiss ended naturally, and he turned to his apprentice at the same time Hux did. She seemed to be in awe as she watched them approach; it was as though she had been caught in a hunter's bright light. It made him feel like a predator.

He got on his hands and knees and crawled back to her. He could feel the weight of his half-hard cock between his thighs and the way his balls were drawing up again. He kissed up between her breasts to her plush mouth. Her hands pushed into his hair and kept him in place. He determinedly held back from descending upon her and rutting against her until he came all over her belly.

She ended their kiss with a hungry sound as Hux did something good to her. He rested his forehead against hers and asked if she wanted Hux to fuck her. She looked a little bashful as she admitted she did, but he had to remind himself that jealousy was a habit, too. Hux would never be able to have with her what the two of them had together. He had to let go.

"Tell him," he encouraged her.

He turned his head towards Hux as she did and he stared at Hux's blue eyes, his striking ginger hair, and the elegant cut of his cheekbones. She told Hux to take her any way he wished. He kissed her cheek in affection and gave them room.

He watched them kiss and trace shapes on their skin and move against each other and get into position on their sides. From his place it was easy to see Hux's hard cock between them, the tip smearing precome on one cheek of her bottom. His own erection gave an envious throb as his gut clenched, and he wrapped a hand around it because he couldn't not. He cupped his balls, pressing the flat of a finger against the raphe of his sac.

When Hux pushed inside her, he fisted the head of his dick. It wasn't the same, but still felt good. When she looked up at him, her legs spread, everything inside him tightened. He could see all of it: how wet she was, how Hux's cock filled her ass, how her flesh sublimely gave under Hux's hands.

He looked up at Hux to find him staring back. It wasn't in triumph or possession--it was with challenging lust. As if Hux were daring him to want him back. Hux wanted him to see, to enjoy it, to desire.

As Hux began to really move, Hux nosed at her wild hair and whispered filthy praise in her ear. He matched Hux's pace with his hand, thankful that lube still lingered on his cock. Hux purring his name got his attention, and he had to mentally backpedal to get what was said.

When he understood what Hux wanted, he got to his knees and shuffled forward. His apprentice looked up at him as he stroked his cock over them, her eyes were hazy with pleasure. She touched him then, running a hand up his thigh, cupping his tight balls in her beautiful hand. Her touch alone had him groaning and aiming for her chest. She arched before him to silently encourage him to come.

He shook and growled as climax took over, his mind absolutely blank except for the overriding euphoria of orgasm. His body locked up as he came in thick, heavy spurts; each time his fist surrounded the sensitive head of his cock, he felt another wave hit him. Then it was too much, _too much_ , and his thighs buckled under him.

Her chest was rimed in his come, the white pearls of it adorned her smooth skin. He yanked his gaze away from the evidence of his spent lust to kiss her and suck at her full bottom lip. He slowly dragged a fingertip through some of the mess on her and offered his glazed finger to her as Hux pulled out of her. She eagerly sucked his finger clean with a soft groan.

Hux got her on her back once more, and he followed to lie at her other side. Hux murmured that she deserved another orgasm, and he couldn't have agreed more despite her misgivings. He kissed her again and let her rub her nose against his.

She began to wiggle between them as Hux ran gentle fingers through her sopping slit. He tried to ground her with a hand on her lower ribs. She had to remain mostly still to reach her last orgasm for the night.

He glanced at Hux to find him rapt and totally focused on pleasing her. That satisfied him and he didn't question it when Hux requested he steady her. The easiest way to immobilize her was the use the Force, so he concentrated on restraining her. She moaned at the feeling and begged for them. It was heady, and he felt a little drunk at her sweet surrender.

Hux was too busy with her clit to give her the extra stimulation that he guessed she needed. He reached down and pushed a finger inside her hot, juicy cunt. He knew exactly where to press up and stroke.

Next to her, Hux told her to close her eyes and relinquish control. Hux's hand on her throat tightened, and she sobbed, breathless and beautiful. He pressed harder at the front wall of her vagina, silently demanding she come.

He felt her body tense for a suspenseful moment until she ruptured in ecstasy. She screamed between them, and wetness gushed over his palm. Hux and he pressed their hands to her pussy to cradle it when the contractions of her orgasm eased away to let her come down slowly. He released his Force-hold and pressed his arm and half of his chest against her to hold her down. She whimpered once and went limp, and he looked up at her peaceful face to see her unconscious.

He slipped his soaked finger out of her and leaned back to suck at it. Hux watched him over her respiring chest. It was difficult to read his face, and he was too exhausted to use the Force. It didn't matter, anyway, and he didn't want to know what Hux thought of him now. It probably wasn't anything flattering.

He sat up with the intention to getting a towel to clean her up when Hux's voice stopped him.

"Kylo?" Hux breathed.

He turned to find Hux on his knees and halfway over her. He watched as Hux leaned forward more and ducked down to lick up his bicep. He belatedly realized he had his own come on his arm from where he had pressed against her.

Hux smirked up at him and deliberately swallowed. For a second, Hux was still and then he swooped up for a kiss. He pressed a knuckle under Hux's chin to keep him there and returned Hux's open-mouthed kisses.

In that moment, everything was only her and him and Hux. Nothing else existed beyond their bed.


	17. The Light That Fueled Our Fire Then Has Burned A Hole Between Us

_Her sob._ He had heard that through precognition in this very fitness center. But what he hadn't known at the time was that _he_ would make it happen. _He had done it._ Still, he mentally pointed out to himself, she had tried to hide things from him. She had kept her vision with _his own grandfather_ from him. She had struck Darth Vader down and attempted to keep it from him.

And Anakin Skywalker had come to her. Not him-- _her_. She received a full confrontation compared to his measly flash all those years ago. What was it about him that his own family held in such contempt?

Snoke had said it was because he was too powerful. He scared his family. They couldn't understand what immense power looked like, or how it operated. Snoke had said Darth Vader had used the Force much like he did, his only grandson. It was in the blood. It was lonely at the top with him, Snoke had said, but it was necessary. It was natural to disturb those who were so far beneath him.

However, there was his grandfather communicating with his apprentice, telling her to leave the First Order to _save him_. As though he couldn't burn the galaxy to ash. As though he were some weak pup to be coddled and protected.

He dropped onto the deck from doing another set of hanging knee raises. His abdominals burned all way up to his pecs. He arched his back to stretch the acid-heat out, but it hardly yielded any result. He decided to work on his legs to give his torso a break.

He tried to keep the image of Darth Vader burning through his apprentice's leg away; the smell of scorched flesh and charred fabric in the verdurous air of the forest; the blood-curdling scream she had let out; the way she had stabbed her lightsaber through his grandfather's helmet; how the sparks had danced off the black armor like liquid fire.

That should've been _him_ facing Darth Vader.

That should've been _him_ that Anakin Skywalker had advised.

He was ready for any trial put before him. He would take anyone down--even his own grandfather. He was free of any chains but the ones he had chosen, and nothing could hinder him now.

His legs finally gave out with the leg press. He maneuvered himself out of the machine and walked away on thighs that felt like jelly. His arms were next on the circuit, but they still felt useless after holding him up on the pull-up bar for so long. He couldn't give up, though.

He opted for lighter arm work and then utilizing the padded strike dummy in the Knights' gym. By the time he was done with the free weights, his arms were warmed and loose. He grabbed a bottle of water to wet his gummy mouth as he headed for their gym. As he entered Gym 3, the convivial voices he'd heard from outside died down. He looked around the cavernous space to see a class of random officers paired off to spar--not his Knights.

He frowned at them and wanted them to disappear from the ship entirely. The officers froze as one and stared back at him.

"Leave," he barked.

The group scurried out of the gym, none of them daring to meet his eyes. He strode through the departing mass. Their fresh, unfaded training uniforms made them all blend together like a swarm of black rats. It made him think of Hux for some reason, about how he valued conformity amongst his people.

 _Hux_ , who had argued for staying last night to take care of her when she had retreated to the refresher to have some sort of breakdown. _Hux_ , who was always trying for logic. _Hux_ , who'd had the audacity to ask if he was well.

He knew that Hux meant upset, shaken, distressed.

That wasn't what he signed on for. He was _fine_ with just his apprentice. He didn't need anyone else caring about him, especially not some pretentious redhead with control issues.

Once the gym was cleared, he threw the floor-mats to one side with the Force and followed that by hurling the practically full bottle of water after them. Swinging something through the air felt cathartic. He went to the weapons rack on the wall and plucked a practice saber from it, uncaring if he knocked other practice weapons to the deck.

He charged at the multi-pad dummy, hitting each pad so hard that the dings from the hit bell drowned out the echo of her crying. The more he concentrated on the dummy, the less he could think about her struggling against him as he invaded her mind. He couldn't recall her fear of him compounded by the upset of _fighting Darth Vader_ because he was too focused on going through the forms he'd learned as a padawan. And he certainly wouldn't think of Hux looking disappointed when he'd refused any help, thinking him a cranky child.

_"Fuck!"_

He smashed the practice saber down on the dummy, and the saber snapped in his hands. The hit bell from the dummy was still ringing in his ears. He panted as he looked down at the ragged edge of the broken saber. He couldn't feel anything. Everything was insignificant. His drying sweat, his screaming muscles, the vague sense of nausea meant nothing.

He discarded what was left of the saber and cracked his knuckles. He wasn't finished. Nothing was finished until _he_ decided it was done.

He moved then, letting his body go through the combat katas. No thought, just unending motion. The hit bell went silent after a few well-placed kicks. It didn't _matter_ , and he didn't _care_.

His grandfather had said he would die if he lost her, and he was certain it was true. He would.

_He would._

There would be nothing worth picking up. Yet, he pointed out, look at what he'd done. She could be leaving now, and he wouldn't blame her. He would track her down, of course, but he couldn't blame her.

He had kissed her tear-damp cheek--

A hand on his shoulder had him whipping around, fists at the ready. The gym swayed around him, and he reached out to steady himself but there was nothing to hold on to. More hands caught him and the gym walls expanded above him. The bright ceiling was so far away and too fuzzy, like white mold was creeping in from the sides.

Oh, he was losing consciousness. That's what was going on. How awful to prove Hux right.

He looked over to see who he thought was Kin-Al. He knew something was said to him, but it didn't make sense. The white mold was going black.

_How gross._

When he opened his eyes again, it wasn't to black mold. He was in the med bay and he was naked under the sheets. It was stupid to ask how he got there, because he could intuit what had happened. He smelled like bacta, and there was an IV in his arm.

He glanced up at the IV bag to see it half-full. Before he could sit up and slide the needle out of his arm, the curtain surrounding his bed was pulled back. A med droid glided over the deck and checked the line to the IV bag.

"Since you are conscious now, I can administer consumable electrolytes. You have a choice of orange or bluefruit electrolyte drink," the droid announced as it adjusted the bed to have him sitting up.

"Orange," he replied. Anything but bluefruit. "Where are my clothes? What time is it?"

"It is 2317. Your attire has been disinfected and stored in a secure locker in this med bay."

"Bring me my clothes."

"The IV must be withdrawn first. It is also advisable to cleanse the body of treatment residue before donning attire."

He sighed and held out his arm for the droid to drag the needle out of him and cover the puncture wound with a bacta patch. He'd learned long ago that fighting the med droids just extended the suffering of being in the med bay. They used to sedate him to heal him after missions, but he hated being drugged and not knowing what the droids, let alone the humans, were doing to him.

The droid glided away when he didn't respond and came back with a pouch of orange liquid. No clothing in sight. He grabbed the pouch from its pincher arm and let it fall to his lap.

"Who ordered my bacta treatment?" he asked as his stomach rumbled.

"General A. Hux."

He took a deep breath to release the tension rising up his tired back. "Bring me a datapad and my clothes."

"Cleansing the body is standard protocol before donning attire."

"I want to cleanse my body in my own private sonic," he bit out. He had to think quick if he didn't want to talk in circles with a karking med droid. The droid was fortunate that he was too drained to make it shut up permanently. "Override standard protocols, _droid_. Now bring me a datapad and my clothes."

"Yes, Commander Ren."

The droid brought him a generic datapad and an non-lidded plastoid bin with his cleaned boots and clothes. He logged in to see an itinerary for the commanders meeting--which was tomorrow. _Apparently._ He had to count the cycles that had passed since Snoke's passing, but it didn't compute. It hadn't felt that long.

He shrugged it off and uncapped the spout of the electrolyte pouch to drink deeply. The salty citrus flavor of the drink made him shake his head and try to clear his throat as he reviewed the itinerary. High command had finally agreed to meet in the Unknown Regions' Volik system. He knew the main planet for the system had been in anarchy--a haven for smugglers and pirates--before the First Order had swooped down upon it. It was now home to a FO outpost base and weapons-testing facility, along with rations production.

There were meetings and dinners--both informal and formal--which required his attendance. Maybe he could wear his new helmet during the upcoming meetings to catch a nap or two. It was either that or choke everyone in the room when they inevitably began arguing.

With a sigh, he closed the message and logged out of the datapad. He knew what he had to do, and he realized all he was doing was prolonging the unavoidable event of her retaliation. Or leaving him for good. Maybe both.

He dropped the datapad to the bed, finished the orange drink, and pulled his cleaned clothes from the bin to dress. He wasn't as stiff as he expected to be. His hands were free of swelling, bruising, or split knuckles. His only problem at the moment was how damn tired he was.

He left the med bay, much to the protest of the nurses, and felt like he was practically dragging his sorry ass to his shared quarters. He didn't have it in him to check on her before entering the berth. If she was awake and hating him, he'd go back to the med bay to ingest more electrolyte drinks. Stars knew, he was going to be shitting bricks for cycles because of how much water he had sweated out.

However, she wasn't awake, and the room was dark as pitch with the blast shields in place. The door shut behind him, and he shuffled through the room to keep from tripping over anything. By body memory alone, he got to the refresher and closed the door. He set the lights to 35-percent and got a look at himself.

He looked diminished and generally oily. It was probably a good thing that she was asleep and wouldn't see the haggard idiot she was bonded with. Not that what he looked like mattered. He was a horrible master who had violated his apprentice. He was shocked that she was still here, that she could remain asleep in his presence at all.

He got cleaned up as quickly as his aching body would permit and then set the refresher lights under ten-percent before opening the door. In the dull illumination, he saw that she had set out their duffles and had gotten them mostly packed. Their respective bathing products were out and sorted in the refresher as well.

He sighed to himself. She was too good, too generous, too fierce, too beautiful for him.

After shutting off the refresher lights and dropping his training gear in the closest chair, he crept through the dark and then crawled over the mattress. As he slid between the sheets next to her, he could feel her rouse. She didn't feel afraid, even with her back to him, even when he rested an arm at the curve of her waist.

"I'm sorry," he softly offered.

Her sleep-thick voice returned, "Damn right you are."

He could work with that.

-

The morning went by in a tension-filled blur. He thought it best not to start anything they couldn't finish in private. He didn't want to reveal to anyone--Hux, in particular--that things were not as smooth and easy between them. And with an 0800 departure time, that didn't leave much of a window for discussion.

However, the more the silence stretched out, the more he felt the need to say something to her. He needed to put into words everything that had been going through his head--even the ugly. _Especially the ugly._ She needed to know that about him. Maybe then she would actually see him and hate him and give him what he deserved.

They sat in the command shuttle to head for Volik, waiting for take-off. She had opted for wearing his old cowl over her battle gear, and he couldn't help but feel a certain amount of possession. He wanted to tell her how fine she looked, but whispering through the vocoder of his new helmet was impossible.

After the shuttle jumped to lightspeed, she settled in her seat a little and pulled the hood of the cowl lower over her face to shield her eyes. He felt sleep steal over her consciousness, and he relaxed in his chair to connect with her.

Between one blink and the next, they were both in the private training room. She didn't looked pleased to be there, but he couldn't release her just yet. She examined him with hard eyes and told him she wasn't going to engage with him like this.

She backed away from him as if to leave, but he stopped her by telling her he needed to explain himself. Her eyes went from grim to furious.

"You mean excuse your atrocious behavior?" she corrected him.

He began to deny it, because he didn't want to excuse. He wanted to explain. However, she cut him off and came for him as she yelled that he had hurt her when he had invaded her mind. She accused him of not trusting her. She grabbed the front of his tunic and threw back in his face his wanting them to pledge to each other, but that he wasn't letting her actually be a partner with him.

He _did_ trust her, but she kept his grandfather away from him. He hadn't meant to hurt her. He didn't want to _ever_ hurt her. He wanted to protect her, had sworn to it, yet his grandfather had practically sliced her leg off. And she had endured, but there had been _nothing_ he could do.

That wasn't entirely true now, he thought. He could do something.

He covered her fisted hand on his chest with his own and apologized. She didn't seem placated at all and jostled him.

"Not sorry enough," she bit out.

"It was wrong, what I did," he admitted. "And I'm sorry." He had apologized three times already, but she hardly seemed to care. "How many times do I need to tell you?" he asked.

"Until I believe you."

How could he make her see? That was beyond his sphere of control. "That's not fair," he muttered.

She screeched back, "What you did wasn't kriffing _fair_!"

Nothing was fair. If it were, they wouldn't have been born with their abilities because there would be no Force-sensitive people. And they would've never met. She could've lived her life in peace with Lor San Tekka. He would've grown up a diplomat's son. Han would never have left, and he would never have known his uncle's disregard or his mother's fear.

He would've never known his apprentice's touch, either.

He might never know it again if he didn't play his cards right here. Could he live without it? Did he want to? He knew his grandfather was right about him, and it wasn't a revelation. Nor was it when he heard it for himself the night before last.

He confessed that he had known what Anakin was going to say to her.

She sighed and her fist loosened under his hand. "Then why did you force it out of me?"

He had needed to hear it. He needed it confirmed, and he told her so.

"Well, now you have. So, what are you going to do about it?"

She was asking him to abandoned the possibility of revenge and all that he'd worked towards for the past decade of his life. His promise to fulfill Darth Vader's legacy would have to be forgotten because he couldn't do it without the First Order.

With Snoke now dead, he was a force in the galaxy to be reckoned with. Skywalker would fall. Rey would join them or die. He didn't want to give that up.

"It's too late for me. I'm bound." To my destiny, he finished to himself.

"To the First Order?" she snorted. "We could kill all the officers on the shuttle right now and run to the Outer Rim. It would be easy."

How strange to hear her say his thoughts about slaying high command from cycles ago. He couldn't help but question her, though.

"Would it?" he asked.

She confessed to not knowing since she had only ever killed one person. She had killed for him, tarnished herself for him. He knew she'd do it again, too. There was no way to leave their situation without bloodshed.

He studied her lovely face for a moment before reaching up with his free hand to cup her cheek. "Stay with me," he implored. "Let me change your mind about me. Let me--" He struggled to find the words. "Let me show you."

"What about what your grandfather said?"

While Anakin Skywalker might be one with the Force, he didn't determine the future. The future, as far as his grandfather knew, was that his grandson would die without her. He himself could get them out from under the First Order's thumb and keep her with him. He didn't know how, or when, but he knew he could do it.

He assured her, "Stay with me, and I'll get us out of this."

The training room dissolved around them, and she disappeared from in front of him. He opened his eyes behind his mask to see the light in the main hold of the shuttle changing. They had broken through atmo as they approached the base on Volik.

He turned to see his apprentice arrange the hood of the cowl back from her face. She looked up at him as though she could feel his gaze on her. Of course she could, he realized.

She gave her bottom lip a little gnaw before nodding. "Okay," she murmured.

He felt as though he was able to breathe once more. He wanted to toss his helmet away to kiss her, but there was no time. The shuttle was docking in the main hangar cut into the side of the mountain and everyone was disembarking. Colonel Drerrki, the post commander of the Volik station, welcomed them onto the base as Hux and he stepped out of the shuttle. There wasn't much they could discuss in the open, so Drerrki and Hux kept to basic logistics of who was already accounted for and where they were.

Before he'd had enough of listening to Drerrki drone on, they were moving out of the chilly hangar and into the thick, stone-walled base proper. Despite being mostly windowless, the base's high ceilings and bright lighting kept it from feeling like a prison.

His berth, along with Hux's, was at the end of the commanders-section of the hallway if the distance between doors was an indication of the size of the room behind them. The doors got closer together as the passageway continued further into the mountain. His apprentice was assigned the quarters next to Hux's--a place of honor not quite on par with that of a commander. His lip curled at the subtle insult, but he didn't say anything. They didn't know who she was, and that might be for the better, for now.

He wasn't in his quarters ten minutes before someone was knocking on his door. He didn't bother scanning who it was, because he frankly didn't care, before opening the door. A soft voice at the back of his mind whispered that it could be his apprentice on the other side to request to stay with him. However, it was just a petty officer delivering his duffle.

After depositing his bag on one of the sofas which he would never use, he went back to the open hallway door. He was about to close it when he heard her voice. He stepped out to see her accepting a large trunk from the same petty officer.

She looked around the departing officer to him and seemed to panic for a second. If she thought she was going to avoid him for the whole conference, she had another thing coming. He strode down the hallway to her, and when he was close, she pointed out he had his own unpacking to do.

He hoisted the trunk and said, "I'd rather see my apprentice settled first."

She sighed and turned away. He took that as invitation enough and followed her inside, letting the door slide shut behind him. She pointedly ignored him and began unpacking her duffle as he maneuvered the trunk into the room's closet.

He knew they wouldn't get far with her if he kept his helmet on, so he pulled it off and set it on the desk across from the sofa, where she was working. She gathered and stacked a neat pile of Order-issued underwear on the sofa with the obvious intention of putting them away in the closet drawers. He mentally shrugged since he was here under the guise of helping her unpack and went to take her underthings to the closet. However, before he could even get his hands on her clothing, she hissed at him like a wild animal.

_The little obstinate, feral brat._

There was a part of him which wanted to throw her over his knee and paddle her ass until she submitted, but that was just frustration talking. He didn't really want her submissive in the slightest. And spanking her certainly wouldn't lead to a satisfying resolution, so he backed off.

"I've eaten your ass," he pointed out. "I _think_ I can handle your panties."

She straightened up and turned to him. _"No_ , Hux ate my ass."

He wanted to tear his hair out, destroy everything in the room with his lightsaber, and yell during all of it because nothing was working with her. "Will you let me help you?!"

"I don't need your damn help," she grumbled and returned to unpacking.

There would definitely be screaming during his upcoming rampage.

It was all forgotten when she casually tossed the folded peignoir he'd ordered cycles ago. He didn't know why she had brought it. Maybe, he thought, she wasn't as mad or hurt as she was projecting. But why hadn't she said anything?

He drew her attention to grayed-out blue bundle, and she asked him what he was talking about. He went around her and picked up the peignoir, letting the fabric trail like water. He wished he wasn't still wearing his gloves, but he could tell how fine the fabric was just from the way it slipped between the leather.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

She wouldn't meet his eyes, but she nodded just the same and said that she did. Perhaps it was too soon, but he asked if she would put it on. He didn't want to force anything, yet he longed to see her in something which complemented her grace.

For a breathless second she hesitated before telling him she might when he deserved it. It wasn't a flat-out no, so that wasn't a complete failure. She picked up a few items and walked them to the closet while he refolded the peignoir and laid it on the couch.

"I _am_ sorry," he assured her. He took a deep breath and continued, "I don't know how to make amends. You're with me, but you're not."

She stated that he had hurt her, and it killed him just a little to hear it. He was sick of the barriers between them. He stripped off the pettiest of them by yanking off his gloves and tucking them under his belt. He saw the flash of fear across her lovely face as he approached. He unhurriedly brought his hands up to cup her face and stroke his thumbs over her cheekbones.

"I wish I could make you forget it," he whispered.

"I wish you hadn't done it at all," she quietly countered.

He agreed and rested his forehead against hers. "I shouldn't have done it."

Her face scrunched up as if she were on the verge of tears, and she told him she would've shown him. He didn't know if he believed her. It was difficult to relax when it came to her, to them.

He sighed that it didn't matter because he hadn't given her the chance.

A corner of her mouth lifted in a smirk. "No, you were an asshole," she summed up.

"And I hurt you." _Violated you._

She agreed that he had and finally met his gaze. "I think you should go," she murmured, not unkindly.

It was progress. They weren't arguing, and no one was yelling or breaking things. She would come around when she was ready. That had worked after Starkiller.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and ripped himself away. He shoved his helmet back on and turned to her to tell her he wasn't giving up. He would fight anyone to have her, even himself-- _even her._

Her expression morphed from guarded to something that could possibly be hopeful. "I wouldn't expect you to."

He grinned, which he knew she couldn't see, but told her he'd see her at dinner. He didn't think his tone came through, but that was the nature of the vocoder. He didn't linger, like he wanted to, and left her room.

When he got back to his quarters, he checked datapad in the office to see what was scheduled for the rest of the cycle. An informal dinner was being served in the mess at 1800, and that left a few hours to waste.

Using that time to unpack and meditate seemed the most productive. Once he was quiet and still, he realized it was such a novel feeling not to have Snoke in his head anymore. It felt like a vacation and that at any minute his late master would be back to observe him and punish any unsanctioned behavior. It had taken years to develop ways of thinking which obfuscated his feelings or intentions. Now it wasn't necessary, but he couldn't drop it.

He wondered if it were strange to miss the weight of Snoke in his mind.

He wiped the thought away and settled into the stillness of the Force. He could feel the flow of it, the power, the connection. There was something big coming. _Perhaps an opportunity?_ It was going to change everything. That much he knew. It would signal the time of old concepts had come to an end.

Through the Force he felt his Knights coming to him and he had to guess it was close to 1800. He stood from the armchair, zipped up his tunic, and fastened his belt around his waist before going to the main door. When he opened it, he found Baltek leading his Knights and waiting a respectful distance from the doorway.

"Master," Baltek greeted him with a small nod. The other Knights welcomed him into the small milling group.

He nodded back and stepped into the passageway. As the door closed behind him, Baltek inquired if he was feeling well--something Baltek had never bothered to ask about before. So, he thought, all the Knights knew of his transgression. He glanced in the direction of his apprentice's quarters to see her approaching.

"I am, thank you," he replied and then looked over the group. "Let's eat."

He led the way down to the mess and through the chow line. The menu was a step up from the usual slop with actual roasted nerf, silky brown gravy, a colorful array of vegetables, soft rolls, and a simple chocolate mousse. He took a double serving of everything since his breakfast of a meal bar was long gone.

The mess was swarming with schmoozing commanders, and the noise of jovial--fake and genuine--laughter and general banter grated on his nerves. He knew he could order them quiet and they would obey, but he didn't want to waste the energy. He felt the need to conserve it.

He saw that off to the side was a mostly open table which would accommodate the six of them. They sat, and he poured water to drink for all of them. With a comment from Kin Al, the Knights around him began conversing and eating like the old days when Snoke would send them out together. Baltek told a story on himself, briefly mentioning Nashi--a sore topic for all of them--as he did. The other Knights filled in the gaps for his apprentice, and she looked delighted, as though she hadn't been recently violated by her own master.

As Baltek wrapped up, he felt pointed interest directed the Knights' way. He looked out amongst the crowd to see a commander headed their way. He quickly scanned the commander's mind to get his name: Reddik.

Reddik excused his intrusion, but stated that he had just become aware of a situation. He asked Reddik to continue as he pushed his tray towards the center of the table. The intel was that a mining guild's transport had been attacked while hauling ore to an Order-friendly refinery. While that wasn't anything unusual, especially with the Resistance trying to garner support within the Mid Rim, the circumstances were. Reddik thought that Jedi were somehow involved. He saw what had been passed on to Reddik; Reddik thought it bizarre, impossible even; things that hadn't been happening since before the Republic had fallen to the Empire.

He only knew of one last Jedi, but that didn't mean there weren't untrained Force-users out in the galaxy.

He knew Reddik wouldn't have thought to approach the Knights on his own. Reddik must've run the idea of the Knights' involvement by Hux. He didn't know if he should be pleased or not to be recommended. He verified that Hux had sent Reddik his way, and Reddik confirmed it.

He could sense that his Knights were keen to run a mission with him again. Taking out Snoke hadn't felt like a mission to any of them; it had felt akin to a suicide run with the added bonus of feeling like an execution squad. This was an old-school mission, familiar and warmly welcomed.

With his mind made up, he turned to Reddik and told him that they would reconvene at 1900 for the details. If they chose the mission, they could either be slaughtering the last of the Jedi or coming back with Rey. Either option suited him just fine.


	18. The Heart of Love Is Their Only Light

She had said she loved him. With tears in her eyes, she had declared it. He was giddy, weightless, shaky--powerful in a way he'd never felt. She had been pining for him, desperate for him to stay at her side. She had been open to him in ways that she hadn't been since Vader.

It almost made him dizzy now, like he'd drunk too much of Kin Al's terrible homebrew.

She had been willing to do almost anything to keep him on Volik. She had nearly promised to marry him if he had stayed. He knew now that she would pledge to him, eventually. She would come to realize that it could be good with him. He would make it good.

However, right now he couldn't. He was already far, far away from her and somewhere in hyperspace between Volik and Lelmra. The trip alone was going to take almost nine hours seeing as Lelmra was practically across the galaxy.

The last communication Reddik's lieutenant had received had been from the mountainous Lelmra. The Order didn't have much on the planet other than it had a type-1 atmosphere and was located in the Churba sector of the Mid Rim. He didn't know what he was leading his Knights into, but he felt they could handle it.

Luckily, their sensors showed that the small cargo ship was still on Lelmra. They would find it first to see if there were any signs of Jedi. That was standard operating procedure, as far as he was concerned.

Yideth thought that by the time they arrived any Jedi would be long gone. While that was true, and he agreed, any Jedi would leave a signature in the Force. They would examine any evidence and track back from there.

Intel was that the FO-commissioned Mining Guild ship had docked at a discreet Guild outpost on Tammuz-an in the Outer Rim. Tammuz-an had been taken from the Hutts by the Empire after the Clone Wars and had hardly anything the First Order needed. Or so he would have thought.

He didn't know what was on the downed ship. He could hardly guess.

Once his three-hour shift at the shuttle controls was completed, Baltek took over and then Yideth would pilot them to Lelmra. The shuttle they were on had actual bunks and a minuscule refresher. It seemed like one step above a trooper transport, but one down from a command shuttle. It would do, and the bunks were long enough for him, so he slept relatively easily with the new cloak he'd bought on Serenno as a blanket.

The proximity notice woke him as it had the other Knights around him. They all rolled out of their respective bunks and headed for the cockpit to see the mostly green planet. Thick ribbons of water ran like snakes between the large land masses. From their vantage point this far above the planet, he could see individual weather systems flowing over the water and dispersing as they hit certain mountain ranges. It was beautiful and untouched.

Baltek slid into the co-pilot's seat and ran the scanners for the Mining Guild ship. They picked up the cargo's beacon to the southwest from their current location. The signal was strong and steady and unmoving. He couldn't feel anything through the Force, so he had to trust that nothing too dangerous was down there.

"Take us down," he ordered and then went to the refresher to relieve his bladder and wash the sleep from his face. As he was standing at the tiny sink basin, he felt the ship breach atmo and swoop through the thickening air. The sound of distant thunder rumbled through the cabin, and as they dropped lower, the pinging of rain began against the hull.

He came out of the 'fresher and asked for an update. Baltek reported that the rain wasn't damaging, though it was steady. It was going to make their job that much harder.

"We've worked through worse," he stated.

Jeckhum grinned at him over his shoulder. "Like that time on--"

He knew exactly where Jeckhum was going with that. "Don't say it."

"Yes, Master." Jeckhum flashed his white teeth in a dazzling, smart-ass smile.

Kin Al winked at him.

He tried to maintain a straight face as he pointedly ignored them and watched as Yideth piloted the ship between the steep green mountains. There seemed to be no horizon on this part of the planet. Every direction was dominated by verdant peaks. It was almost claustrophobic with the lush walls of mountains on either side while the close, dark clouds rained down upon their craft. A river curved ahead of them, flowing fertile and brown with loose soil.

"We're coming up on the signal," Baltek reported.

They soared past the back of a Guild cargo ship emerging from the trees at the shore. It was difficult to tell from the angle and distance if the ship had wrecked or had been deliberately moved into the underbrush.

Yideth changed course to turn around and found the closest strip of stable beach. She set them down parallel to the river. She lowered the ship slow and easy to the let the rocky shore settle under their weight. Once down, Baltek hit the release for the back ramp. A wave of humid air and the cacophony of fast-moving water filled the hold.

He turned to watch the steady rain for a second before ordering everyone to gear up. They stepped out of the shelter of the hold as one and headed towards the downed Guild ship. The rain was heavy, and fat droplets quickly saturated his tunic. He would like to have said that the cool rain was a relief from the humidity, but it didn't cut the oppressive blanket of wet heat. He was glad he'd forgone the cloak in such muggy conditions.

From the outside, the Guild ship appeared unscathed. He used the Force to release the side ramp and stepped into the empty hold. Empty, as in clear of cargo. Empty, as in devoid of life. Empty, as in no karking Jedi.

He barked at his Knights to examine the hold to find any hidden compartments and to download the manifest. He'd come back after them, like he always did, since he had extensive past experience with hidden cargo holds. In the meantime, he headed for the closed cockpit.

He knew what he'd find there even before the door cleared the opening. He usually liked being right, but in this case, with all the crew dead, he didn't. Fortunately, because of his helmet he couldn't smell the corpses. However, he could feel the cloying meat/sour-ferment/dirty-toilet stench which was already permeating in the air.

There were four crew members, all strapped into their seats. The two passengers were grunts, dockworkers who most likely loaded whatever had been on the ship and would've been responsible for unloading when it moored. The other two--the pilot and co-pilot--were Order officers and judging by their rank bands, pretty low within the organization.

He thought that was strange, because what would a squad leader and a private be needed for on such a trip? Also, why would the Mining Guild want First Order officers piloting one of their ships?

The next clue he noticed were the multiple slashes across each of their chests. At first blush and to the uninitiated, they looked like lightsaber burns. He leaned in close to examine the squad leader's chest where there was one slash going to the right and three more going to the left. The gray uniform was neatly burned away to reveal cauterized, crispy flesh below. The singed lines were a touch jagged this close up.

Deep, deep, shallow, deep.

He looked at the officer's face to see it slack-jawed and relaxed. No rictus of fear as they slumped to face the co-pilot's chair. He walked over to look at one of the dockworkers with a safety harness in still place. The cuts were similar, yet the harness wasn't cut exactly right. To him, it appeared that all the crew had been slashed first and then put into place. Perhaps the assailant saw how things didn't match up and cut into the harness to make it look like the dockworker had been killed in situ.

He called the Knights into the cockpit and requested they tell him what they saw. He stepped out of the way and folded his arms over his chest as he waited. His Knights came back with the same conclusion--nothing of the scene suggested that anyone had died in the cockpit.

Yideth noted that there were no scorch marks on the bulkhead or deck. Baltek added that the cuts to the flesh had been done slow and precise. Kin Al nodded.

"They were dead before cutting," Kin Al summed up.

"And put into place to look like a surprise attack," Jeckhum tacked on.

"The question remains," he pondered. "Were they already dead when they left Tammuz-an?"

"With enough time between there and here, they could've been killed early in the flight and staged like this," Kin Al replied.

He looked to Yideth to see her frowning as she looked over the bodies. "We shouldn't waste too much time with Tammuz-an," she told him. "We need to get back to Volik ASAP."

"What do you feel?"

"This is a set-up, somehow."

He nodded and asked about the manifest. Baltek replied that he had it, and it was ready for perusal. He looked around the cockpit one more time before announcing:

"Move out."

How stupid he'd been to agree to the mission. He should've known things weren't quite adding up during the meeting. Hux had been interested in seeing him play detective for the First Order--instead of Snoke's attack dog. He had a feeling it had all been a ploy. To what end, he wasn't sure yet.

 _Fuck_ , he thought as he closed the Guild ship and stomped over the drenched beach, the situation could've been a trap. Then Hux wouldn't have had to worry about him or his Knights getting in the way of his _grand_ ambitions. He'd already put in his vote as Hux for leader. It could've been his last action as part of the First Order.

Then Hux would've had her all to himself. Hux would be her only protector within the Order, even though it wasn't like she was some meek, helpless damsel. However, he was sure Hux would use his position with her to his every advantage. He'd show her off, have her kill for him, and fuck her nightly.

As if his apprentice sensed his agitation, he felt the weight of her delicate hand on his chest, calming him like nothing ever had. He took a deep breath of filtered air. He thought of cupping the back of her neck with his bare hand as if to pull her in for a kiss. He could feel her smile at his touch. Stars above, he missed her already.

Just as quickly as it started, however, it was gone. He found himself sitting in the hold of their shuttle with the ramp locking into place. The rain dripped from his helmet onto his damp tunic, and he felt each drop. Yideth was across from him, her drying helmet in her lap, and studying him with curious eyes.

He unlatched his helmet and shook out his sweat-damp hair once it was off. Before Yideth could voice a question, he asked for the manifest from Baltek. Within a minute, the manifest was projected between him and Yideth. Yideth crossed the hold to see the projection from the correct side.

The first thing he noticed was that there was no ore listed on the manifest at all. No tonnage listed, either. All there was in the description of the cargo was "Crystal" with the amount totaling to 700 units. His first thought was kyber, but he would've felt their residual energy in the cargo hold. He would've thought that the kyber in his lightsaber might've resonated.

The rest of the manifest was typical in that it listed where the ship had berthed: Zatec; who was responsible for the cargo dirt-side: Ko Toda; and where the cargo was going: _Tormentor_.

"This is a fool's errand," Yideth cursed. "There are no Jedi involved."

"You want to go back to Volik to sit amongst sim-warriors and toast to their 'collective wisdom'?" he demanded of her.

"No, Master, but I thought--"

"Thought this task below you?"

Yideth sat next to him and leaned in to murmur, "I thought you'd want to go back to your apprentice."

He sighed. "And what good would it do to come back with no answers and no dead Jedi?"

Breaking into the conversation, Kin Al announced that their ETA for Tammuz-an was ten minutes. Jeckhum added that they were low on fuel.

"We shall refuel and make a few minor repairs while on Tammuz-an," Baltek stated. "We will not conceal who we are. If there is something to hide, the citizenry will all but direct us where to look."

He concurred. "Baltek, stay with the ship for refueling and repairs."

Baltek offered a sly grin. "I will need to authorize payments, of course."

"Of course," he agreed. "And if you so happen to stumble over the details for 700 units of crystal within their payment system, that would be _quite_ a coincidence."

"It would, indeed."

When they came out of lightspeed, they were greeted by security forces in old, dark blue A-wings. The leader of the group hailed them and ordered them to state their business. He took over the comm to announce they were the Knights of Ren of the First Order and needed an open terminal bay to refuel and make a few minor repairs.

The comm was silent for a good five minutes as the information was relayed and discussed. There had been a time he would've shot all of them out of his way. He was tempted now, if he were being honest. However, he leaned against the pilot's seat and stared down at the primarily brown planet as he waited.

There were large bodies of aqua water and green decorating the periphery of the continents. Even from this distance, he could see the spread of giant cities sporadically dominating the coastlines. Above it all, and on the same plane as their shuttle, was a gold-toned moon cresting the top of the planet. There was a cat-shaped shadow on the moon, and he was sure there was a legend about it.

The comm crackled back to life, and they were instructed to follow their escorts down to the capital of Zatec City. He acknowledged the command and said they would comply. The Tammuz-an security ships spread wide to allow their shuttle passage.

He left the cockpit, not interested in watching their descent onto the planet or listening to the communications between Jeckhum and security forces. He got on his cloak and helmet before closing the manifest which was still being projected in the middle of the hold. He thought for a second that Yideth was right--this task was beneath them. If there were no Jedi to take down, there was no reason for the Knights of Ren to be on Tammuz-an.

But it was too late to change his mind.

They landed without incident as evening descended upon Zatec City, though they still had their escorts in the terminal bay. Baltek took over the cockpit while Kin Al, Jeckhum, and Yideth prepared to disembark with him. Once he saw they were ready, he lowered the back ramp and stepped down onto the shaded tarmac.

What greeted him hardly surprised him. The two helmeted A-wing pilots stood at attention, blasters in hand, with three more blue-skinned humanoid guards lined up with them. What an insult to be welcomed with so few, he thought.

As predictable as could be, an official of some sort came around the guards. They had lavender skin, a long face with prominent cheekbones, a small, round nose set high on the face, and pupil-less black eyes. Their flowing hair so orange it looked synthetic. Their floor-length red robes were embroidered in geometric, violet-colored designs obviously announcing their status.

"Greetings, Knights of Ren," the official stiffly droned in Basic. "I am Tyne Tosh, advisor to her majesty, Queen Eri-cha."

"Kylo Ren," he introduced himself. "On behalf of the First Order, I thank you for granting us access to your facilities."

"It is our honor to host such illustrious warriors." Tosh took a step closer. "Queen Eri-cha wishes an audience with the Knights, my lord."

"Then let's not keep Her Royal Highness waiting."

Tosh glanced over the four them and attempted to keep his anxiety hidden. Tosh bowed his head and led them through the back of the hangar with a quick steps. The guards followed them, flanking their diamond formation as they left the hangar.

He knew how he and his Knights looked: helmeted, clad in black with sandy boots, and fully armed. And Tyne Tosh had every reason to be nervous. With Yideth on his right, Kin Al to his left, and Jeckhum guarding his back, they were unstoppable.

And being led straight to the pearl in this oyster.

Baltek updated him through their private helmet comms that he was already connected to the terminal system. He acknowledged Baltek through the Force and followed Tosh through the hallways which became more round and sleek as they spiraled up the horn-shaped structure.

They came to a doorway so much like the ones before it. He didn't pick up on any deceit or trickery coming from Tosh. Beyond the door were a few people, but none with murderous intent. Eri-cha was in there, so it wasn't a trap.

Tosh turned to them and stated, "You cannot see the queen with your weapons."

He took a deep breath and put the Force behind his words. _"Our weapons are of no concern to any of you."_ He let the weight of his influence hang upon Tosh and the guards. The four men shifted on their feet and then relaxed as someone took the burden of decision from them.

Tosh looked as though he wanted to argue for a second, but he nodded in understanding. "Of course they aren't. Yes, of course. How silly of me." He turned back to the door and requested entrance.

Within the windowless, yet still luxurious room was the queen and her personal retinue. That seemed to include four elite guards against the white walls, a seated royal boy on her right, a servant who had just left to a connected room, and lastly Tosh.

Tosh bowed deeply to Eri-cha and announced them. He offered the courtesy of giving a half-bow, which his Knights mirrored. Eri-cha seemed pleased enough with the show, and they stepped into the bright, silver-gilded room, leaving the regular guards out in the hallway.

Tosh took a few steps into the white room and turned to them with a flourish. "You are now in the presence of her majesty, Queen Eri-cha Gerini Sollagi Kybo the Fourth, and Prince Mon Shearn Bade. Long may she reign!"

The little court echoed Tosh's last declaration as he took his place at Eri-cha's left. The queen was of indeterminate age, but her smooth skin was darker than Tosh's. Her hair was the color of orange ice cream and was coiled up on her long-faced head in three buns to form a triangle at her crown. Her generous mouth was painted a deep forest green and her long-sleeved tunic was a saturated berry pink while the skirts underneath were blood red with same violet embroidery that Tosh had on his robes. Overall, she was a riot of color, as was her son--like hot-house flowers.

Eri-cha stepped away from her simple padded stool of a throne and addressed them. "Thank you for coming to-- _Why are you still armed?"_ She backed away as her white-clad guards came forward, holding their white blasters at the ready. She turned to Tosh to screech, "How could you bring them before me armed?!"

"Their weapons are no concern of ours, Your Highness," Tosh placated while he shuffled backwards like a coward.

She turned back to them and maneuvered herself in front of her son. "Have you come to reclaim the crystal?" she demanded.

He paid the guards no mind-- _for now._ He focused solely on Eri-cha. Her statement strangely implied that he'd had the crystal in his possession in the first place and that it was back on the planet. "Who brought it back?"

"I don't know."

"Not the Mining Guild, then." He looked around the room and did a quick mental calculation. "Why did you agree to take it?"

"I-I can't--" _Find the word anymore, but also--_ "Can't remember? They said something about... some--thing."

Yideth hissed, "Jedi."

"Kill the guards," he ordered.

He reached out with the Force and froze Eri-cha, Mon Shearn, and Tosh in place as Yideth powered on her lightsaber. Kin Al barreled into the closest guards to him, their blaster fire bouncing off his armor and scorching the pristine walls. Yideth deflected the bolts meant for her and spun with grace to the other two, slicing the closest blaster perfectly in half. In the meantime, Jeckhum released the blasters from his sleeves and opened the hallway door before the guards outside the royal chambers could.

He marched through the chaos, trusting his Knights to do their job. He ignored Baltek's request for an update. He knew that it sounded like a slaughter through the comm, but it wasn't the Knights who were taking the casualties.

He grabbed Eri-cha by her thin, treacherous throat to hear Tosh make a sound of protest. "Be honest, Your Majesty," he suggested as he leaned down to look directly into her black eyes. "Who approached you?"

She searched the impenetrable darkness of his visor. "They never stated their name."

He knew she meant they in the sense of one unidentified person. That was enough information for him to determine that the operation was probably organized by a small team led by one. One person who knew what he sounded like. One person who knew the First Order was in search of non-kyber crystal--which was something even he didn't know.

Bringing him out of his thoughts was the soft, wet crunch of Kin Al shattering the brainpan of one of the guards. Mon Shearn whimpered and tried to curl in on himself to no avail. He felt that Tosh wanted to shield the young prince from the gore and the realities of conspiring with the enemies of the First Order.

"How did you know it was just the one person?" he asked Eri-cha to confirm his suspicions.

"I-I didn't." A lie. "They sounded like you." A truth. Like a person using a vocoder, he surmised. She continued, "I thought you were--"

"The one who instructed you in the first place," he finished for her.

She nodded as a single tear rolled down her cheek. "Please don't hurt my son."

"We won't have to if you and your advisor don't do anything foolish."

"This isn't what I wanted--what I meant to happen," she confessed.

He wanted to say _obviously_ , but that seemed redundant. From behind him came the sound of the last body hitting the floor. He glanced back to see Jeckhum dragging the first of the guards into the royal chambers to keep the hallway clear. Kin Al wiped off his armored gloves on an already bloody uniform and went to help Jeckhum.

There was only one thing that needed to be done: he had to report in. He requested Baltek patch him through to Volik. Hux would be waiting for a communication from him and probably had been for hours. While he waited for a connection, he told Yideth to strip Tosh, Eri-cha, and Mon Shearn of jewelry, trackers, and hidden comms.

He went to the doorway for the connected room where Eri-cha's servant had disappeared to before the Knights had entered. He felt the servant was beyond the door and completely oblivious as she puttered around with pillow arrangements on the beige divan in the soundproof room. He opened the door and subdued her easily enough, bringing her out and giving her over to Yideth. He released his hold on the Tammuz-an and claimed the private lounge for his own as his helmet comm pinged to life.

Hux's voice purred in his ear, full of self-satisfaction. "Lord Ren."

"General Hux."

"You have news from Lelmra, I take it."

"And from Tammuz-an."

"Ah."

Hux now knew he was putting together a picture of the whole FO operation. He would have to confront Hux about why the crystal was needed, and why he hadn't been informed of the true nature of the cargo, but first he needed to get through this shit to get back to Volik. "No survivors on Lelmra and no ore," he stated.

"Go on."

"Ship manifest lists _crystal_ as cargo originating from Tammuz-an. We're on Tammuz-an currently and have uncovered a conspiracy involving Queen Eri-cha and some unnamed enemy of the First Order. Cargo is planetside. It appears as though Eri-cha's memory has been compromised. We suspect Force-users. I suggest reconditioning the royals. The planet will be under Order rule once their minds are properly moulded to your specifications."

He snidely tacked on, "You may have all the _crystal_ you require from here on out once this is accomplished."

"No injuries?" Hux inquired, ignoring his barbed comment.

"Not so far, General."

"Good. I'll have Phasma and her preferred troops deployed to Tammuz-an ASAP. Will keep you updated on ETA."

He nodded to himself, satisfied for now, and signed off. He stood there for a minute, wondering if Eri-cha's memory had been altered by Rey. Rey fit the criteria since she could influence people through the Force--he _definitely_ had evidence of that--and she did know what he sounded like. However, the traitor, FN-2187, knew that as well. Either one could've fashioned a vocoder to mimic his, but it had probably been Rey, if it were anyone.

He let his hypothesis lie and returned to the receiving room. There was a pile of jewelry in the center of the white floor. Yideth reported that all the pieces seized had trackers, but no comms. She physically searched each one to make sure nothing else was in their clothing or on their person.

"Good work," he congratulated his Knights as he stepped over a smear of blood and gray matter from Kin Al's handiwork.

The hours went by slowly after hearing Baltek relay a message from Volik that reinforcements had been deployed and their ETA was 1900 FOVST. They allowed their prisoners to have an evening meal and rest, but they didn't allow for individuals to communicate amongst themselves. Each of the Knights took a prisoner to guard, and it was easy to keep them secluded in separate parts of the receiving room.

Baltek reported in with news on the returned crystal. According to the logs, Baltek said, the crystal was in a terminal bay on the outskirts of the city which served mostly as storage for mining ships. Eri-cha confirmed the intel, and it felt like the truth to him. Baltek had obtained a map to provide Phasma when she landed.

When Phasma did open communications, saying that the Tammuz-an security forces had been eliminated, it was just after 1800 FOVST. He listened to Baltek instruct where the Order transport should dock. He then identified himself over the comm and informed her of their position within the building above the terminal. Phasma acknowledged and left their channel open just in case.

He woke his prisoners because he didn't need already-frightened people deciding to do something heroic when they saw stormtroopers. Or something incredibly stupid. Which tended to coincide in his experience. Before Phasma and her troops entered the building, he took one last look around the grand, white space. The smudges of dried blood seemed to glow like neon; the afterimage shone blue on black against his eyelids.

There was a small part of him that knew with absolute certainty that his apprentice would be appalled. She didn't know the truth of existence within this corrupt galaxy. People died protecting venal rulers like this everyday. In a strange way, she had been sheltered on Jakku.

However, he didn't think he was the one to thrust such a revelation upon her.

The presence of Phasma and a few of her troops in the hallway pulled him from his contemplations. He told Jeckhum to open the main door for them as they approached, and Phasma led the way into the receiving room. She was as polished as she ever was--in the bright setting she practically gleamed with authority.

"Commander Ren," Phasma addressed him. "So good to work with you once more."

"Unfortunately, not for long, Captain. The Knights shall be returning to Volik."

"It's also _unfortunate_ that you're missing the leadership ball." Her tone was dry though her helmet.

"My heart weeps at the loss," he returned. He could feel Phasma's smirk even though he couldn't see it.

He explained the events of the past few hours with the prisoners to her. As always, she had intelligent questions and was fully prepared to take over the Tammuz-an government in the name of the First Order. She told him that more troopers and a few psytechs were on their way.

"Then I'll leave Tammuz-an to you, Captain."

"Yes, sir," she replied.

He led the Knights back down to their shuttle and then checked in with Baltek for assurance that the ship was ready to go. The ship was fueled and stocked with fresh fruit Baltek had stolen from an open container within the bay. He could feel the three Knights at his back perk up at the mention of exotic fruit. Baltek announced that the fruit was yellow-skinned with juicy red flesh and a stone in the middle--similar to a plum.

He reached down and ruffled Baltek's close-cropped hair in affection, telling him to get the shuttle in the air. He left the cockpit to see the pilfered fruit. Jeckhum was already portioning out the fruit to go with the regulation meal bars. Apparently, everyone was getting three Tammuz-an plums and a meal bar, along with a liter of bottled water.

Once Baltek set a course, engaged the hyperdrive, and the ship jumped to lightspeed, they all sat down on the deck and ate their first meal in over a cycle. It wasn't the best meal nor the most satisfying, but it was good. Yideth asked who he thought had altered Queen Eri-cha's mind.

"It had to be that scavenger," she said as she glanced at the scar running down the right side of his face. "Or Luke Skywalker."

"Skywalker is overly burdened by principles to mind-trick someone who agreed to help. Which is exactly what Eri-cha did by selling to the First Order and then conspiring to get the crystal back."

"So that leaves the scavenger," concluded Kin Al.

If the only powerful and trained--or semi-trained by now--Force-users in the galaxy were Skywalker, Rey, Yideth, himself, and his apprentice, then yes, that would leave Rey as their only option. If there were unknown Force-users out there, then the options were limitless. However, he would've felt a disturbance in the Force if someone's powers suddenly switched on. That was how Snoke and he had tracked hundreds of Force-sensitives down over the years. His apprentice's awakening had been masked by Rey's own and gave him the opportunity to obfuscate his apprentice's presence to Snoke. It was ironic that he owed Rey for that--for anything, really.

"Rey," he mumbled. "Her name is Rey."

"I can't wait to waste her," Yideth fumed.

Baltek cleared his throat. "When do you want to go after her, Master?"

He sighed and leaned back on his hands. That was the big question. Something held him back from immediately replying. Instead of giving a straight answer, he asked, "What makes you think we'll have to?"

"It seems only natural--for what she did, what she's doing."

He hummed in thought. "I think she'll be coming to us sooner or later. After what happened on Starkiller, she'll want retribution."

Yideth asked about how that would affect his apprentice. He didn't know the answer to that even though he knew his apprentice wouldn't want to destroy Rey. She would try to bring Rey to their side, which would be a futile gesture. Rey would never join the Knights--especially with him in charge. And doubly so when she found out what the Knights do and have always done.

"I don't know," he finally said and stood up, gathering the garbage closest to him. "I'll take first watch. You four figure out the rest."

The silence that followed his departure was palpable. He disposed of the sticky trash in his hands and wiped his palms on his thighs before sitting down in the pilot's seat. He closed his eyes and floated between a light doze and meditation.

He could feel Hux's pride at now being head of the First Order and his apprentice's understandable attraction. Men with power, men who looked like Hux, would always garner appreciative looks and captivate people. It wasn't like he himself was immune to Hux's charms.

He let the thought go and focused on his breath. He didn't think he'd been at it for long when he felt the hot spark of fear shoot down his spine. It wasn't coming from him. It was _her_. Something had happened at the ball.

His heart was racing, and he looked over the controls to see if he could make the shuttle go faster. She wasn't hurt, and neither was Hux, but they needed him. Something had gone horribly wrong. He felt panic and chaos coming at him. It choked him as if it had multiple hands around his throat.

He peeked over his shoulder to find four sets of eyes looking at him from the hold. He couldn't make the words to tell his Knights that his apprentice and Hux were in danger. He turned back the controls and focused on what was in front of him. He could do nothing but seethe and hail the base on Volik.

He paced when no one immediately answered and then closed the hail only to try again seconds later. He smashed his fists against the console and wordlessly yelled when nothing happened. He wondered if they'd come back to Volik to find a blood-bath. The pain radiating from his knuckles gave him focus enough to push that primal fear aside.

If _anything_ happened to his apprentice, he swore he would hunt down _everyone_ \--anyone who hadn't protected her, anyone who had hurt her. He'd rip the very universe in two.

He took a deep, calming breath and pushed his hair away from his face before hailing Volik one more time. This time, a communications officer answered his comm. He demanded to know if Hux was alive and where Hux was since he was sure no one knew who his apprentice was to ask after her. Through the hologram, he watched as the officer stammered that she didn't know and that the base was on lockdown. As if he wasn't aware of standard operations.

He leaned forward and reached through the Force for the stupid officer's neck. _"You're useless._ Patch me through to Hux." The officer gurgled and clawed at her neck, and but it did nothing to dissuade him from stopping. _"Patch me to Hux!"_ he spat and released the officer.

The wheezing, weak officer coughed as she pushed a few buttons and disappeared. The holo read that he was on-hold for A. Hux. He rubbed at his eyes and swallowed the shout he wanted to release because he needed answers _now_.

After a few minutes, Hux finally answered his holo by asking: "Where the hell are you?"

"Seven hours out."

"Two people tried to assassinate me." Hux cursed under his breath and adjusted his finery. He looked good with the cape and extra embroidery.

"How is she?" he asked. While Hux was important, to a certain extent, his apprentice was more so.

 _"Amazing._ Stopped two blaster bolts. I wouldn't have believed it was possible unless I read the reports of your doing the same."

"She's powerful with the Force."

"No shit," Hux agreed as he paced. "Get back here ASAP. No layovers."

"Of course."

"I want you back here."

He heard "need" overlap "want" in Hux's demand. It made him blink in momentary confusion. "Then I shall return directly, Admiral."

He didn't know what to make of _that_ and switched the holo off. He should've asked for updates before ending the holo. He wanted a full report of what had transpired. He wanted to see a holo of her stopping those bolts.

He sat back down and told his racing heart that everything was under control. She was fine--more than fine. She had handled a deadly attack on her own.

Yideth took the co-pilot's seat and asked him what had happened. He explained the situation and tamped down the urge to mentally berate himself once more about leaving Volik. He looked at Yideth to find her grinning.

"Why are you smiling?" he asked.

"I'm proud of her. She did well."

He looked back to the windshield with a nod. "I am, too."

It was peaceful for a few moments before the navcomm in the console pinged with a personal message for him. He opened the message to read that the official interrogation of the assassins would start at 0100. He calculated that the shuttle would be a little over two hours from Volik by that time. The message went on to say that all parties involved should be available.

He didn't like that with that proclamation, his apprentice would be included in the proceedings. Maybe a revelation about how the galaxy functioned would be bestowed upon her regardless. Especially if she had to watch the interrogators work. Somehow, that didn't please him. He liked her the way she was.

He relieved himself of cockpit duty around 2300 and claimed an open bunk in the dim sleeping quarters. He didn't remember falling asleep, but he woke with a jolt that was so powerful he knocked his forehead against what was above him. For a second, he was sure he was back in the oubliette. He reached up and touched the surface to find it lightly padded. _Not the oubliette_ , he silently told himself.

He let out a tight breath and succumbed to the heaviness of her misery which settled over him like a crumbling bank of snow. He could almost hear his apprentice weep. Again, something had happened, and again, there was nothing he could do about it. He could feel the great, wracking sobs which stole her breath and strength. He turned on his side to face the wall. In all his wretched impuissance, he let her tears flow down his scarred face and soak the fabric beneath him.

He felt Baltek approach and then lay a hand on his shoulder. "We're twenty minutes out from Volik, Master."


	19. (Do You Love Me?) Do You Love Me? Like I Love You?

He stormed down the stone hallways of the Volik base towards her quarters. He could feel that she had reached a lull in her weeping and had moved onto self-castigation. His mask hid his own thunderous expression as he felt her trying to will herself to calm down. She did not deserve such torment, and he'd deal with who ever was responsible later.

He let himself into her oppressively dark room, easily overriding the auto-lock, to hear her just beginning to catch her breath. As he got off his helmet and gloves, he murmured her name, but she didn't acknowledge him. He tossed his gloves on the floor near the closet and placed his helmet on them to steady it. He shrugged off his cloak as he heard her mental echo of coward.

_Coward._

That was enough. He folded the cloak in half and draped it over his helmet. He could feel her curled on the sofa, so he dropped to his knees next to her and turned her on her back. She fought him even in her weakened state, because of course she would. He shushed her and said her name again.

She shuddered through another sob and tried to turn away. He cradled her feverishly warm face in his palms, her petite hands automatically covering his, and willed her to calm down. The darkness wasn't helping him, so he ordered the lights to ten percent. She shrunk from the light, twisting on the sofa. Truthfully, she was a mess with her hair obviously tugged loose from its band and her eyes a little swollen and bloodshot.

He told her as softly as he could, but loud enough that it would register over her own inner voice to calm down. He told her it was just him.

She stilled and blinked to clear her vision. What had they done to his sweetheart? What had she seen that had upset her so?

She croaked out his name, and he confirmed that it was him. Her face went from confused misery to relief in a nanosecond. And then she was clinging to him--looking to _him_ for comfort and shelter.

He was sure his heart was going to burst from the full feeling taking over his chest. It felt like it had been so long since he'd held her. He pushed an arm under her knees and picked her up as he stood. It was delicious to feel her tighten her hold for the brief moment he turned and settled on the sofa with her on his lap.

She curled like a child in his arms, and he gently combed back her hair. He could feel the apology bubbling up her throat, but he shushed it down. He didn't want an apology from her about needing him.

He told her about the mission in broad strokes, telling her about the absence of Jedi and how he had wanted to come home to her after hearing from Hux. He told her that Hux had informed him about her stopping the blaster bolts during the ball. She asked if he could do that too, and he had to remember that she hadn't been with the villagers in Tuanul. Of course, she'd never seen him do it.

"I didn't know I could do it," she confessed.

He leaned his cheek against the top of her head and replied it was because she'd never been tested like that before. He crooned that he was very proud of her. She had done so well.

She wetly sniffed through her runny nose and buried her hot face against his neck. Somehow she was upset again, and it completely baffled him. He gave her another squeeze and told her it was okay, but she shook her head.

"No, it's _not_. I tortured them."

He asked if she meant the would-be assassins. She barely nodded, as if she were ashamed by the mere fact. He thought that would explain a lot of her upset. He assured her that she had done what she had to do. She ripped herself away with a fierce denial.

"I hurt them," she lamented. "And Sidious was there and he encouraged me and I did it. _I did it_ , and I didn't ease it. They're going to die, and I didn't even try to make it better."

She wanted to make the deaths of those two _failures_ easy. As if they would _ever_ afford her the same luxury. He smoothed a thumb over her tearstained cheek and pointed out that they had tried to kill her. In return, she brought up that they had tried to kill Hux, too.

"Hux's aware of the risks that come with the job. You were his escort for the evening and you protected him. I'm not sure that warrants a bolt through the head," he explained.

She contradicted him by saying that he would've done same if he were in the one of the assassin's shoes. He didn't think he was as stupid and said as much. He told his apprentice that he would kill them now, if she wished. They deserved it for what they did to her and Hux.

She frowned and shook her head, saying that he didn't understand.

"I understand the situation perfectly: One assassin failed while the other tried to take out the person who stopped the first. You did nothing wrong."

She didn't seem to want to accept it and looked down at her knees. He tilted her chin up so she met his gaze. He asked if she was actually listening to him. He told her that the assassins wished they could do what she'd done. He stated that this was war and no one was playing fair.

She pouted and wiped away her tears on one cheek, looking so innocent when she did so that it twisted at what was left of his heart.

He willed her to hear him as he said that the assassins took a chance and failed. "You were far kinder, I'm sure, than the interrogators." She was admirably efficient and generous. "If I'd had to get information out of them, they'd been seizing to death by the time I was through."

She looked as if she wanted to protest, but he wouldn't let her argue in this. "They tried to kill you, and I would make them suffer. They are lucky I'm not with them right now. They're lucky _you_ talked to them. If it were me, they would've _begged_ for the release of death."

He felt her relief as if it were an ocean wave washing over him. He didn't want her to cry anymore. He didn't want her to feel guilty anymore. He tugged her down to him by the back of her neck and kissed her. She was desperate and needy and everything he'd ever wanted with her. She melted against him as he slid his tongue over hers.

He steadied her head as he broke away to kiss her damp cheeks, her precious forehead. She sighed and tucked herself against him, and he held her tight to feel her let out a deep breath. He suggested they go to bed, and she nodded and buried her face against his neck.

He picked her up once more and placed her on the edge of the bed. She let him undress her until she was down to her underthings. He pushed the comforter down on the bed and ushered her between the sheets before tucking them under her chin.

"Are you leaving?" she asked, her voice sounding so small and vulnerable.

He studied her face and wondered if she meant tonight or ever. He knew the answer to either option:

"Never."

He didn't linger to study her reaction or wait for a reply. The trip to Volik--and for him beyond--had raised a lot of issues for both of them. Sometimes, he knew, everyone needed a little privacy.

He stripped down to his briefs and used the room's refresher to take a piss, wash his mouth out, and take a cleansing wipe to his armpits. When he returned, she had scooted over on the narrow bed for him. He eased in as she turned on her side, but it was still a tight fit. He pulled her to him to let her lay halfway over him, her top leg hooked over one of his thighs. Her flushed face was warm against his upper chest and her arm rested on his middle.

He ordered the lights back to zero and fell asleep within minutes.

He woke before her in the morning and enjoyed the unlit hush of her room. Whatever was planned for that cycle could wait. He didn't care what time it was, nor did he care about getting out of bed. He imagined this was as close to paradise as he'd ever be: his lover protected in his arms, holding him in the dark, needing him like no one ever had.

With nothing else to distract him, he thought about what she'd said last night--torturing assassins, being encouraged by someone that he'd never heard about. If he remembered correctly, she said that person was called Sidious. That sounded so familiar, but he couldn't place it. He got the impression they were not with the First Order.

So, if they weren't with the Order, yet still on the base with her, they were obviously incorporeal. Force-ghosts were not unheard of, he knew. When he had been a child, he'd thought Snoke had been a Force-ghost when it had become apparent that no one else could hear him. Snoke had disabused him of the idea rather quickly, though. He wondered if this Sidious was the same. If they were, something would have to be done. He wouldn't have his apprentice used like he'd been.

He stroked the fine hair at her temple as he tried to think of what would have to be done--if anything. If it were even possible. If she would even want that.

Her waking drew him away from the possibilities. She wiggled against him, settling her weight once more, and he gave her arm a gentle squeeze in greeting. He softly asked if she were feeling better. She hugged him with leg and arm and hummed in contentment.

He let it go for long, peaceful minutes until he could wait no longer. "Who's Sidious?" he asked. He felt her stiffen just a little, but he continued, "You said that name last night, but I've never heard it from you before."

She loosened her hold on him, and he could feel her willing herself to remain limp as she told him that Snoke had given it a name. He clarified for himself that Snoke had recognized it.

"Definitely," she stated. "He--Sidious--gave me away. He wanted me to take Snoke's power."

He asked what else Sidious had been telling her, but she said they were stupid things, things she wouldn't do. That piqued his interest, so he inquired what those stupid things were.

She was quiet for a moment before saying that Sidious wanted her to enslave him and breed with him. Sidious thought they would have powerful children. She shook her head and confessed, "I don't know. I didn't like it."

He smiled up at the ceiling. "Like chain me up and fuck me until you get pregnant?"

While the pregnancy aspect didn't exactly appeal, the being-at-her-mercy bit rather did. He wondered if she would restrain his legs or his arms to her bed. Maybe both, he thought. Or just one chained cuff around his ankle to keep him in her quarters.

She laughed and shifted against him, and he felt her chin dig into his chest. "That's what you focus on--sex?"

He pointed out with a shrug that it was sex with her. He was always for that. She would be a kind mistress, he decided. He would bathe her, massage any tight muscles for her, and if he were lucky, she'd let him taste her sweet pussy until she came all over his face. In turn, she would finger-comb his hair, treasure him, let him rest his head on her thigh when she meditated.

"You _like_ the idea," she murmured. She thought of binding his wrists to the corners of the bed. "Restraining you and forcing you to pleasure me." She thought of writhing against him, rubbing against him until he begged for mercy, for relief, _for her_.

He slid his arms up the mattress to mimic her flash of a fantasy. "You know how much I enjoy fucking you."

She surprised him by straddling him. He thought she might just roll her juicy cunt against him until she came in her panties and leave him wanting--like her fantasy.

She told him that pleasuring her would be his only job. He agreed that he'd fill her up anytime she wanted. He promised to make her feel good. She rested her hands on his chest and rocked against his dick. That little bit of friction was enough to have him on the edge of desperation.

She hotly whispered, "A big stallion only good for one thing."

He bucked up under her, and she pressed all her weight against him to push him down to the bed. The pressure alone had him groaning and spreading his legs to find some sort of leverage to rut against her. Before he could, however, she bent forward to kiss her way up his chest. She teased his nipples, sucking at them, nipping them.

"Shit-- _Fuck!"_ he breathed as he tried to keep his chest still. _"Holy shit..."_ He thrust up against nothing but air, for she was hovering too far above him. His cock was throbbing between his legs.

She kissed up the center of his chest and got her hot little mouth on his neck. He turned his head away to give her room as his eyes rolled back in their sockets. She mouthed at his jaw and settled against his stomach. The warm, feminine lines of her--her bound breasts, the hot cotton of her panties, her silky thighs--converged upon his torso, heating his blood.

She teased him by rubbing her front against his. Her cute nose bumped up against his, and he could feel her breath against his wet lips. He demanded she kiss him, but she sat up instead. She ran gentle fingertips over the exposed inside of his arms and then caressed the planes of his chest. She pushed her hands into his loose hair, and he couldn't help but lean into her touch.

He needed it so much. She hadn't touched him like this in cycles. He wanted to weep with each brush of her hands.

She pointed out he had more discipline now than when they were on Coruscant. She said that she would've been under him by now. His stomach swooped from the thought of overpowering her and tucking her under him; of ripping her panties away and pushing inside her in one perfect stroke.

"You want that, don't you," she purred. "You want to roll me and tear my panties and shove that big dick of yours in--" She yanked his face to hers to whisper, "My tight, wet pussy."

His hands fisted in the pillow under him, and he snarled at her, "I want it. I want to feel you come around me. I wanna fill you up."

Her lips barely grazed his, and it wasn't enough. He wanted again those desperate kisses they had shared last night. He curled up to follow her, to catch her lips, but she told him _no_ and meant it. He pushed his shoulders back on the bed and pressed up to her as he felt her hot mouth trail down the center of his body. Each touch felt like fire and left cooling ashes in their wake.

He groaned and pressed his face against his arm as she dragged his briefs down. His dick was so hard it practically bounced against his tight belly. In a torturous, hot line, her tongue slithered up the underside of his cock. She mouthed at his erection, teasing him until she enveloped the tip in her gorgeous mouth.

She twisted her head, sucking as she did, and it reduced him to begging. He didn't know what was coming out of his mouth other than mindless pleading. And then she hummed.

He thought he was going to explode. He looked down his body, breathless and in pleasurable agony, but couldn't really make her out. He couldn't wait anymore because any second he was going to lose it.

"C'mon, fuck me, you evil little cocktease!" he growled. Her hand flexed around his cock, and he let his head fall back onto the pillow. "I can't, oh fuck, _I can't_..."

She giggled like an imp--obviously delighted at reducing him to a sniveling fool. He should be embarrassed, but he wanted her too much. She asked him a question, but he couldn't make sense of it. He tried to reply with anything, but ended up babbling again.

She let go of him, and he thought he'd fucked up. He'd said something stupid. He was about to grab onto her to keep her from leaving. However, the sound of a piece of clothing hitting the floor next to the bed stopped him. He sensed she was moving around, wiggling over him--not moving away, but stripping off her undergarments. He stared into the dark and could barely make out her silhouette.

Then her hand was back on his erection to steady it, and she was scooting into place. He felt the lush-wet-soft of her pussy right against the head of his cock. He bit his lip to keep from saying any more and held himself still as she eased down on him. Her body was so hot, and the perfect clutch of her vagina had him fisting his hair to keep from grabbing her hips.

As she settled, he thanked her for having a little mercy on him. And he meant it. She didn't have to love him, but she did. She didn't have to touch him or have sex with him, but she did. He didn't deserve her at all, and he was grateful she hadn't figured it out yet.

She braced herself with hands on his chest once more and began to ride him. He dug his heels into the mattress and moved counter to her, giving her all of his cock over and over again. He heard her breathing speed up and deepen. He imagined her breasts heaving and jiggling as she slammed down on him; her ass bouncing against his pelvis. Her cunt was so hot and slick around him, and he wished he could see his dick sliding into her.

And he wanted to touch her, fondle her, caress her until she was moaning his name. _Only_ his name.

She leaned forward and gripped one of his arms as she asked him to help her. He knew exactly what she wanted help with and reached between their bodies. She leaned back with her hands on his thighs to give him room.

He steadied his palm against her mound and slid his fingers between the slick folds of her body. Even without seeing, he could sense the delicate, swollen center of her clit. She shuddered above him as he stroked it and kept pace with the easy rolling of her hips.

He knew he found the right rhythm when she tensed and sat up a little, her hands leaving his thighs as she went. She got tighter around his cock, but he ignored the delicious feeling. He had to make her come.

She suddenly sagged and gasped as her hips stilled and her pussy throbbed around him. He bore down to keep from coming, and his fingers stilled because of the concentration it took to do it. She pushed her fingers under his to press against her clit. Her body gave one last strong clench before she began moving again.

"Fuck me," he encouraged. _"Fuck me_ , come on my cock." He knew she had at least another in her. He hoped he could hold out long enough to come with her.

She asked if he was going to fill her up. He told her he would, thinking of making his mark, of having his come ooze out of her and drip down her thighs. He would give her anything she wanted to make it happen. All she had to do was ask.

"Do you love me?" she asked.

He squeezed his eyes closed and nodded. "Oh stars, so much, I love you, I do, I love--"

He couldn't take it anymore. He was going to come, and nothing could stop it now. He got a hold of her and pulled her down tight against him. He rocked his hips in these intense little circles. It was stroking his cock just right-- _fuck, it was perfect_ \--and she was so wet from coming already.

He finally surrendered and let go to drown in thrumming ecstasy. His orgasm was mindless and almost violent as it stole his thought, his breath, his reason. He floated in the wind of her soul, buffeted by sweet breezes which ruffled his hair and cooled his back. Distantly, he heard her breathe out an _oh_ and felt her body pulsate one last time.

It brought him back to her lightless room and her exquisite weight on his hips. He pulled her hand from between her legs and brought to his mouth. He sucked all the wetness from her fingers and kissed them before sitting up. He hugged her tightly to him and looked up at her--though he couldn't really see her.

She held his face and stroked his cheekbones. He could feel her lean in, and then she was kissing him like he had wanted. Between one kiss and the next, she confessed that she missed him. He squeezed her to tell her he had missed her, too.

"Do you love me?" he asked.

She whispered, "I do."

-

He found himself back in her room hours later. She was still at the final dinner/presentation with Hux. He didn't know who he was more angry with: his apprentice for not mentioning that she'd had sex with Hux while he was away, or Hux for going against his wishes that it always be the three of them when Hux was involved. Actually, he could apply that to his apprentice as well.

Amid all the congratulatory _crap_ Hux had spewed about how he owed everyone his life, Hux had mentally woven a sexual tapestry of kiss-swollen lips and breathy moans. He had easily followed Hux's mental pathway to figure out that the threads were her and Hux. After the ball. In Hux's temporary office. Where Hux had answered his comm.

She had sat there during the dinner, in her demure gray knit dress, looking like a refined lady in silk and black suede, and had dared to smile in his direction. _The duplicitous little desert rat._ She had applauded him and his Knights while Hux thought about the delicate scent of her skin.

He looked around her room and wanted to destroy it. He wanted to leave the wreckage for her to find and deal with. Fuck them both. Fuck all of this. _None_ of it was worth this.

His breath stuttered out of his mouth, and he collapsed onto the small sofa. He let his head flop back on the cool stone wall behind it. If none of this was worth it, he asked himself, then why was he here? Why bother to wait around for her?

He thought of her reaching for him, needing him with a desperation that went beyond distress. She had _needed_ him. Truly. Maybe for the first time for either of them--her in needing someone and him in being needed.

His anger dissipated at the thought of holding her through the night. She had felt right in his arms as he carried her to bed. He wanted to hear her say she loved him again as though those three words were the only sustenance he would ever receive. He adored her. He wanted her so badly. And he hated that he did.

He could feel her out in the hallway, talking to Hux. Correction, _flirting_ with Hux. He gritted his teeth and waited for her to finish with the farce.

When she came in, she didn't seem surprised by his presence. He watched as her stance changed as the door slid closed behind her. The light reflected off the shiny gloss on her lips. Her mouth looked like slice of decadent, forbidden fruit. He was sure that was all Hux's design--the absolute asshole.

"You two fucked while I was gone," he stated.

She frowned and asked him if that had been the reason he'd left the dinner right after Hux had finished speaking. He noted that wasn't a denial. She strutted over the desk and sat down in the chair across from him to unzip her boots.

"He thought of it when he pointed you out. He thought of kissing you and how you sounded when you came and--"

She cut him off by saying she wasn't doing this with him. How dare she dismiss him as though he were _unjustified_. He got to his feet, towering over her even from across the room.

"But you'll do it with him!" he snapped.

She admitted to having sex by telling him that Hux had _comforted_ her and touched her. She said that she wanted it. In her passionate _reasoning_ , she threw a boot towards the closed closet door. "Maybe almost being assassinated is old hat to you," she scolded. "But it's a new experience for me, _okay?"_

She was missing the point because it was all supposed to be on his terms, and he told her as much. She yelled back that it was her body, implying that she could do with it as she wished.

But she was his. She had even said so. "You're mine," he growled.

"I'm not _a thing_ you own!"

She wouldn't even be a thing anymore if he hadn't found her hiding under Lor San Tekka's bed. The flametroopers would've burned her to ash if not for him. He pointed out that _he_ had found her in Tuanul, and that it was _he_ who had sparked her abilities.

She threw back that he had while burning her whole life to the ground and she owed him _nothing_. She got off her other boot in the meantime and sat there in the desk chair, looking up at him, accusing him with her eyes alone.

He was not in the wrong here. He knew it, and he took a step closer to reach out to her to remind her that she was his. He would make her see it, make her feel it. She didn't need Hux to comfort her.

She shot to her feet to stand to oppose him as if he were threatening her. How could she even think such a thing? He would never mistreat her, or had she conveniently forgetten that?

"What happened to loving me, _needing me?"_ he demanded.

"I _do_ love you!" she wailed. "I want you so much!" She made a face and wiped off her lipgloss with the back of her hand. "Why can't you trust me?"

Trust came from the truth. He needed the uncensored truth about the whole incident. "Tell me what happened," he ordered.

She reluctantly told him that his comm with Hux had just wrapped up when she got to Hux's office. Hux had been angry because she had exposed her true nature for all and sundry to see. Hux thought any secret advantages to having a Force-wielding consort was gone now that she had saved him. She told him that she had assuaged Hux's frustration and that they had kissed.

He interrupted to ask who had initiated, and she said that it was mutual. He bit back a snarl when she said that she had told Hux to touch her. He understood she meant that Hux had only used his hands with her and that there had been no penetration of any kind. While it was still sex, it wasn't as serious as he had thought.

She then said that she had needed release. He acknowledged to himself that adrenaline was hard to overcome alone. Most people drank it down, waited hours for it to pass, cried it out, or fucked it away. He'd done all of them in the past--sometimes multiple solutions in one session. He couldn't blame her for finding a remedy.

She sat back down and confided, "He wants us both, you know. He was thinking of the three of us when he came."

Like he cared what Hux wanted. _Fuck him._ "And what were you thinking about?" he asked.

She confessed that she hadn't been. Apparently, simply seeing what Hux wanted was enough to get her off. She'd never done that with him. He was insufficient.

"If you want to quit with Hux, we can because you're more than enough," she assured him.

That wasn't a panacea to all their problems because she wanted Hux, too. "No, you want us both."

She was quick to point out that he wanted Hux as well. His knee-jerk reaction was that, _no_ , he didn't. He didn't want Hux like he wanted her. He'd thought about it before her, _yes_ , and he wasn't against Hux in their bed. He also liked kissing Hux, watching him and his apprentice together, and ordering him around and actually having Hux follow his commands, but that wasn't the same. _It wasn't._

"I don't want--"

She cut him off by ordering him not to lie to her and popped to her feet. She pointed to the hallway as she told him to seek revenge if he wished by fucking Hux. Revenge wasn't what he wanted. He wanted her undivided love and desire. He was honest and told her that he wanted her to think only of him when she came.

"That doesn't seem fair to Hux if I'm with him."

He felt a rush of boiling anger, and he pointed out that it wasn't fair that Hux had sent him away. She leaned forward and spat out that Hux hadn't done it on purpose. Like hell, he hadn't. Hux still wanted to drive a wedge between them, he was sure of it.

However, her face changed to thoughtful as he began to argue his point. She held up her hands and came to him. "No, wait. Please, Kylo. It wasn't Hux who wanted you gone."

He frowned and wondered who else would. She was seeing something he wasn't, obviously, so he requested she explain herself. She put her hands on his arms and looked up at him with her luminous eyes while telling him that Hux had spoken of him before the ball and that Hux had wanted him there. He almost scoffed, but she went on to mention Reddik from the day before.

"He wanted you and the Knights to take care of Jedi," she finished.

"Are you saying he knew that there would be no Jedi?"

She shook her head. "No, but maybe someone who gave him that intel did."

He saw where she was going: Reddik was the gateway to a conspiracy. From the assassination attempt to the wild gorak chase which ended on Tammuz-an. The report he'd read earlier that day stated that the assassins were brought together by someone called Revolver. They were both now seeing that one incident was connected to the other. They'd have to tell Hux, if he hadn't already figured it out. The sooner, the better--before all the commanders went back to their respective posts.

"That still doesn't address the problem between us," he mentioned.

She let go of him and bit her lip before saying that she did love him and that she thought of him even when she didn't want to. His gut tightened at hearing her confession. She loved him. He couldn't get enough of hearing it.

He tilted her chin up, so she had to meet his eyes. "Tell me."

She looked deep into his eyes and whispered, "I love you."

He couldn't get enough air, but he requested her to say it one more time.

With more conviction, she stated, "I love you."

Something inside him unraveled, and he let her words unspool in his gut. _She loved him._ He felt the truth of it. _She loved him._ He bent to kiss her, and she met him halfway. _She loved him._ After a moment, he broke the kiss to rest his forehead against hers, and he heard her pointed thoughts. _She loved him._ No one was more dear to her. He was more than enough. _She loved him._

"No one can replace you," she murmured.

"And you love me."

She simply nodded in reply.

He felt solid in a way he hadn't felt since... He couldn't recall. It was like a missing piece had slotted into place. He was stronger for it. There was nothing to exploit now, no chink in his armor. He had her on his side and nothing could harm him now.

He let go of her and told her he was going to Hux with their hunch about Reddik and this Revolver. She didn't argue or stop him, and he left her room without looking back.


	20. Love Is Clockworks, And It's Cold Steel

It was easy to override the lock to gain entry to Hux's quarters. The well-appointed main room of Hux's suite was as bright as the hallway behind him. He could hear Hux mumbling to himself as he stepped farther into the temporary suite. It seemed like Hux's voice was coming from the dimmer office to his right.

He stayed just to the side of the open office doorway and listened as Hux talked his way through a message. It was rather endearing to hear Hux struggle for the right word, correct himself, and then read over what he'd just typed.

"I heard you come in," Hux called out to him.

He came around to stand in the doorway, unsurprised by Hux guessing it was him. There was no one else on the base who would temporarily short-circuit a locking mechanism of Hux's door. Also, no one would be visiting Hux at--he read the holoprojection of the desk's comm--2100.

Hux closed the message and looked up at him, remaining seated behind the desk. Hux's face went, if not exactly soft, at least open. "What is it, Kylo?"

He attempted not to feel anything in regards to Hux using his first name for once. He thought Hux was probably doing that to throw him off and get him to leave quicker. Like that would work with him. Snoke had used worse, more demeaning in just the tone of his voice, and he had stayed. Maybe because he was an idiot, but he wouldn't be thrown off by someone using his first name.

"We--my apprentice and I--we were talking--" he began, and Hux offered him an incredulous look, but he kept going. "--about connecting the attempt on your life with Reddik's intel. She thought one was related to the other."

"A natural conclusion. I've been thinking along those same lines since watching the interrogations." Hux stood up and smoothed out his uniform jacket. "How loudly were you _talking_ , the two of you?"

Like any fight they had would have a thing to do with why he was here. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Hux came around the desk to lean a hip on the edge of it as he pointed out, "I saw how you left the dinner."

He fired back, "I saw what you were thinking of when you pointed her out."

"I'm allowed to think what I wish. What you choose to do with your _wizardry_ has nothing to do with me." Hux settled against the desk, his ankles crossed in front of him.

"Neither of you told me what had happened after the ball."

Hux hummed. "If you saw her, you wouldn't blame me in the slightest." He crossed his arms. "I had plans for us after the ball, you know--the three of us. When you left for Lelmra, I had discarded those plans. I thought she would never come to me on her own."

"But she did."

"Yes, she did." Hux leaned forward as if to implore him to understand. "I didn't do it to push boundaries."

He thought it might be a ruse. _"Whatever._ Revolver's behind Reddik's report, we're sure. The trip to Lelmra and Tammuz-an was just a diversion."

"No, it wasn't, even though I had my reservations about Reddik's intel. You secured the planet for the First Order."

"What do you need crystal for?"

Hux smirked, but it didn't look like his usual haughty kind. "Were you paying any attention at the dinner? The Tammuz-an crystal structure is stable enough that it will store the energy drained from enemy ships."

"So, you sent me and my Knights on some stupid errand."

"I didn't send you away, though I didn't stop you, that's true. Even though I am a part of high command, I have no authority to send the Knights anywhere. And it wasn't stupid. You gave me what I needed."

"Now you do have the authority."

"Do I?" Hux asked as his warm smirk turned into a snide little grin. "I didn't know that was a perk of the position."

He charged at Hux, spanning the short distance in a few strides. He watched as Hux braced himself for violence. Instead, he crowded Hux against the desk, pressing Hux back with his torso. "You put her in a dangerous situation. You let me think I--" He noticed he could smell Hux's herbal, fresh cologne. It was distracting.

"You realize that the Knights are tools of the First Order, correct?" Hux's voice barely shook, but he knew Hux was rattled. "I can't command you or them to go anywhere--even now. I can only trust in your strength to come through any situation which you put yourself in."

"I should've been given more information or asked for more."

"Perhaps, but you didn't. And everyone who matters is still alive."

He looked over Hux's lean face--his keen and luminous eyes, the gentle slope of his cheekbones, his full lips. "You sent us there as a way to pander to the voting body of high command," he speculated. "You appeared to command us even though you can't."

"And look where it got me-- _us_. You think any of high command knows what to do with the Knights? _I_ know what you're capable of."

"What about my apprentice? You put her in the line of fire."

"That was unforeseen and unintended."

He heard Hux's mental apology, yet he wanted to shake Hux for putting her in danger. "She told me to fuck you out of revenge for what happened."

"Then why aren't you?"

He grabbed Hux's jaw and drew closer. "Because you want it too much."

_"Yes, I do."_ Hux studied him for a second as if trying to read his mind. "Why is it so difficult for you to believe I want you, too."

"You never have before."

"That's news to me." He felt Hux's long-fingered hands at his waist right above his belt. "I was intrigued when we were first introduced and then I dismissed you as a beautiful, self-destructive lackey, as someone _unworthy_ of being my co-commander despite having so much. Then Starkiller happened, and I wanted to kill you myself when that scavenger couldn't--"

He let go of Hux's jaw to push his fingers into his gelled copper-colored hair and yanked his head back as he growled, "And now?"

Hux's mouth fell open in wanton surrender and a sigh escaped his lips. Hux's breath smelled like tea, and he had the urge to follow the taste over Hux's tongue. "I see what I missed, and how we all can profit from a mutually beneficial arrangement."

"Which would be?"

"We align ourselves together and take the galaxy. Your apprentice is powerful, as are you. I have the strategies and the resources. Join me, Kylo, put your confidence in me, _fuck me_. I'll never let either of you down."

He loosened his hold of Hux's hair to cup the back of his neck. None of it was subterfuge, he realized. Hux was actually telling the truth. Perhaps to get himself out of the situation, but he would hold Hux to his word. He reasoned they already had Hux in their bed, so to let Hux think he had their complete trust was easy enough. He could monitor Hux while lowering his guard and at the same time be ready to deal with any issue quickly and decisively.

"Not tonight," he murmured.

Hux nodded and drew his bottom lip between his teeth for a second. He watched the action, contemplating what that mouth could do, and knew he should _back off_. He couldn't help but notice when Hux's bottom lip came out wet and flushed. He needed to _back away_.

Before he could, Hux's grip on his waist tightened and Hux raised himself up to press a needy kiss to his lips. His nose bumped Hux's cheek before he tilted his head. He knew he shouldn't even be tempting himself. He had come here to share information and nothing more. However, he didn't let go of Hux nor did he even try to get away.

The play of Hux's tongue against his was enough to steal his breath, and he broke the kiss with a gasp. He opened his eyes to stare into Hux's. He didn't know who was giving an inch or taking a mile in this situation. He needed to make a strategic retreat because this wasn't going to stop if he didn't.

"Not tonight," he softly reminded them both as he let his hand trail around Hux's neck.

Hux tipped his head to the side to expose himself to more of his touch. He could feel how hungry Hux was for it. Not just him alone, but the three of them. The configuration didn't seem to matter to Hux--he just _wanted_. It was difficult not to let Hux's lust influence him. Fuck, he needed _to go_.

He stepped back, feeling like he could breathe again, and turned to leave the office. From behind him, he heard Hux straighten up and call his name. He paused in the doorway, gripping the jamb to keep himself steady.

"Maybe not tonight, Kylo, but soon. I will have you both." Hux spoke with such certainty, that even he didn't doubt it.

He dipped his head, to hide or to agree he didn't know, and all but rushed out of Hux's quarters. Once in the main hallway, he wiped at his mouth and blew out a breath. He knew they were in deep. _He_ was in deep.

Between one step towards her door and the next, he realized how foolish it had been to go to Hux. Hux knew all he needed. Sure, Hux might want this Revolver flushed out, but not until the proper moment. Hux certainly didn't mind the Order occupation of Tammuz-an, so he wouldn't take back anything that had been done thus far.

He knocked on his apprentice's door, hoping like hell she'd let him in. When she opened the door, her neutral face changed to wary acceptance. He requested to stay with her for the night. He didn't want to go back to his assigned suite. It was too much like Hux's, and besides, he'd barely even been in it.

She let him in, and he repeated what Hux had told him. He left out the kiss and Hux's determination to have them both. _Whatever that meant._

As he got off his boots, he thanked her for letting him in. He verbally acknowledged that he knew she wasn't pleased with him. She asked if he understood why. Sometimes, he thought, she wasn't at all pleased with him finding her in Tuanul. However, that wasn't the reason why now.

"You think I don't trust you." He looked up at her, searching her beautiful face. "You think I want to own you. Or that I already do." He wanted to ask if that was so wrong, but instead he continued with: "I don't know why you don't want me like I want you. You hold back. All the time."

She asked if he trusted her as she stepped in front of him, and he replied by asking if she would leave him.

She seemed struck by that. "Not where it matters. _Never_."

He could feel that she wanted to touch him and he reached out first to maneuver her to sit across his lap. She pressed herself against him with her arms around his shoulders, and it was delicious as always to hold her. He never wanted to let her go.

"Will you pledge yourself to me?" he inquired while hiding his face on her knit-covered shoulder. He liked the form-fitting sweater dress she was in. It was soft and hugged her body perfectly.

In lieu of a straight answer, she asked, "Do you trust me?"

_"Yes_ , with my life," he assured her. "I trust you."

Her chest gently heaved below his chin as if she had just let go of some mounting dread, like he would ever refuse her anything. If she didn't know that by now, he wasn't doing his job. He told himself he would make a concerted effort to make her never doubt in him, in them.

"When the time is right, I will," she whispered.

-

Once the shuttle back to the _Finalizer_ was lifting off, he took his helmet off and rested it on his thigh. Hux sat between them, his datapad balanced on his skinny knee. There was discussion of Reddik and where Revolver had latched themselves-- _like a tick_ , he thought. He didn't care much for speculation, but offered the occasional idea. It wouldn't mean much in the end, but talking about Revolver filled the time better than Hux bringing up their _budding_ relationship.

Hux mentioned Mitaka looking into previously transferred personnel. Before either of them could reply, Hux's datapad softly pinged for his attention. His apprentice looked up at him with such an amused look on her face that it was difficult to not mirror her expression. She practically broadcasted how she thought that Mitaka must be the _Finalizer's_ beast of burden. _Poor Mitaka._

The shuttle came out of hyperspace shortly thereafter and docked in one of the smaller hangars with little fanfare. Hux had business to get through, especially now that there had been an attempt on his life and he was the de facto leader of the First Order. Hux informed them he'd keep them abreast of the Revolver situation and then strutted out of the shuttle and through the hangar. A few officers trailed after him, talking amongst themselves and poking away at their respective datapads.

As they made their way down the shuttle ramp, Jeckhum announced that they were going to resume training tomorrow morning. Kin Al said they were going to book a gym for weapons practice. He glanced at Baltek to see him looking eager to get started.

"I'd like to work on speed strikes again," he told Baltek.

"I'll make sure there is a training dummy then, Master," Baltek replied.

He could feel the three trying not to think about finding him overworked and dehydrated to the point of needing medical intervention. It was kind of them, but they didn't need to censor themselves for his sake. He had been an idiot. He had made some _very poor decisions_. He was certain it wouldn't be the last time.

They separated, his apprentice and himself going to their quarters, the other four Knights going wherever they wished. He had to assume to their own quarters or to the mess for a meal. The morning had been the kind of controlled chaos that only happened on military bases. It was ironic given that it was the First _Order's_ base. He was sure Hux wouldn't find that as amusing as he did.

Their quarters were dark, and the clean, polished surfaces within gleamed even in the dim illumination from the passageway. He ordered the lights to 60-percent as he walked in to see a second armchair had finally been delivered. She acknowledged the second chair by tossing her lightsaber onto the seat. That seemed acceptance enough for him.

She sunk face-first onto the made bed and huffed out a breath as she smoothed her hands over the clean sheets. He asked if she were tired, and she replied with a half shrug and a sigh. That seemed answer enough for him.

He stored his helmet in the closet and got his datapad from its docking station to check on their luggage. There was no ETA for it, so he arranged the armchairs to his liking and slumped into one to scroll through his inbox while he waited for the notice. The only thing that really piqued his interest was a message about his TIE Silencer. It had gone into production and, if manufacturing kept to schedule, he'd be testing it in a few weeks.

With Hux's declaration last night, he had to assume that the _Silencer_ was truly a peace offering. Or it could be some twisted, sick gift. Hux would "have" them and then kill him. Perhaps the _Silencer_ was really for her. She didn't know how to fly yet, but he was sure Hux would train her properly.

He mentally shook himself because thinking about-- _suspecting_ \--Hux would get him nowhere. It would only sour everything. He had to keep to what he'd settled on last night: to accept Hux and watch him. Hux might be a clever man, but he was no match for Force-sensitivity. He had to trust his own instincts, and his instincts were telling him that their relationship was changing. It had to do with Snoke's absence, yes, but Hux's interest had been there all along.

He could admit to finding Armitage Hux attractive the moment he laid eyes on him.

Of course, then he'd gotten to know Hux and his uptight ways. Hux's vanity: the stupid padding in his uniform and the pomade he used in his striking hair every morning. Hux's rigidity: the dogmatic adherence to protocol and chain of command. Hux's arrogance: the way he would hardly deign to acknowledge the power of the Force and the manner in which he would parade around the _Finalizer_ as though he were a king.

He could also admit to finding great satisfaction in interfering with Hux's schedule.

Hux had needed the shake-up. It served them both well when plans didn't perfectly fall into place. Hux's schemes had gotten better to the point where he'd been able to push his own father--a cofounder of the First Order--into permanent retirement. He thought it was more like exile, however.

Dragging him out of his pointless contemplations was the soft chime of a new message in his inbox. The ETA on their luggage was ten minutes. With that in mind, he took off his lightsaber and belt, storing both in the closet. He took off his tunic and hung it up.

He turned to his now-sleeping apprentice and noticed how her pretty mouth pouted in sleep. He thought of how she had fought him in Tuanul. She would've never voluntarily slept in the same room with him then. And look at them now--her wearing his old cowl while sleeping in their bed. She could've killed him during any sleep cycle despite their bond. Instead, she loved him--maybe only because of their bond. He didn't know.

He turned away from her and retrieved her lightsaber to put it on the closet shelf next to his. As he decided to sit down again, the door chimed with a delivery. He answered the door and silently took the two duffles from the droid. Apparently, the trunk for her gowns and fancy accessories was sent elsewhere; he had to assume to Tailoring for cleaning, repair, and cold storage.

It was a shame since he would've enjoyed seeing her in the ball gown. However, he was sure that there would be holos of the ball shared on the Order comm-boards in the next few cycles. Hux would be sure to have a missive for his _subjects_ \--now beyond the _Finalizer_ \--soon, and there were always holos to rouse readers' curiosity.

Nevertheless, there was something that Hux had never seen. Perhaps it was time to once more request she wear the blue peignoir. It was just for them, and the likelihood of being interrupted was practically nil.

With that settled, he quietly unpacked their bags and hung everything up that should be. He stored the empty duffles at the bottom of the closet and then got undressed. He wanted to sonic away Volik and put the whole debacle behind him.

When he was finished in the refresher, he got out the pair of velvety pants he'd bought at the same time as her peignoir. The pants sat way lower on his hips than he expected, but barely puddled on his feet. He looked at himself in the closet-door mirror and felt foppish. The velvet clung to everything--thighs, his ass, the mound of his soft cock. He looked one step above a prostitute with his wares-- _such as they were_ \--on display.

He closed the closet, shivering at the slight disturbance of air ghosting over his exposed skin, and tried to forget what he was wearing. Funny enough, he thought, he suspected he would've felt more comfortable naked. But that wasn't what this was about.

He went to the control panel by the main door and adjusted the room temperature before lying down on the bed near her. He drifted in the Force, feeling the ebbs and flux of energy. It came to him in that stillness that Revolver was just the beginning. Thwarting Revolver's plan wasn't going to stop anything else that was coming. And something was coming for them. Like the gathering of a storm front in the distance, he could feel the tension in the air. It wanted to break upon the First Order's shores and rain down hell.

It was still a ways off--that much he knew--and it made the present peace all that more precious.

She woke with a sigh, but he kept his eyes shut. She moved around, adjusting her position on the bed. When he was certain she was fully awake and relaxed, he gently requested she put on the peignoir. She was quiet for a second before saying that it would be wrinkly. He told her he had already hung it up, which would help--though the fabric hadn't taken to creasing.

If she were concerned about being cold, he assured her that he had adjusted the room temperature. That didn't seem to be the problem when she asked _why_.

"Why now?" she asked.

He didn't want to admit it, but he wouldn't lie to her. "Because I don't know how much time we have." He let her think for a moment before stating, "What's coming, you feel it, too."

She was silent, but he could feel her knowing it was true yet still wanting to fight it off. He loved that about her. He reached across the narrow sea of cotton between them and put his hand on her forearm.

"It's not here now," he tried to comfort her. "Go put it on."

He didn't know if it worked as he watched her get up, retrieve the peignoir, and disappear into the refresher. He lay there for a few minutes, listening to the whispered rush of the sonic, before ordering the lights to 30-percent. The private training room was completely dark, and he stared into the shadowy expanse as if it had any solutions.

Again, foolish to think so.

He went into the training room and lowered the blast shields. The vast expanse of space, which sometimes looked so flat to him, spread out like a black drop-cloth splattered with flecks of pale metal. Though for all its infinite nothingness, he didn't wish to be planetside.

The refresher door opened behind him, and he heard her pad around the main room. As her footsteps drew closer and then stopped, he turned to take her all in. He was practically blinded by her, yet couldn't look away to save himself. She was a dazzling vision; an angel in pale blue silk.

She stared back at him from her place in the doorway, her gaze flittering over him from head to toe. He felt it like fingertips tracing stripes on his skin. He shivered at the non-caress.

One of them had to move, he knew, and he didn't think it was going to be her. He couldn't wait anymore, anyways. He went to her, taking in the details as he got closer. The diaphanous fabric covered most of her legs to the floor, and he could see the barest shadow of her nipples. The vee of the top half displayed the beginning curve of her breasts. The wide strip of darker blue lace of the waistband hugged the slope of her midriff. The three little ties keeping the peignoir closed at her waist dangled downward as if to point out the matching blue panties below.

Once he was close enough, he ran the back of one hand down her bare arm. She was so soft and open to him, so vulnerable. He couldn't believe she would indulge him so. He brought one of her hands up to his lips and kissed her knuckles, remembering that he had bruised them in training.

He rested that hand on his shoulder and brought her other hand up to rest on the opposite side. Her arms framed her torso and highlighted the graceful lines of her. He bracketed her waist with his hands, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

The warm silk separating his callused hands from her fine skin felt so good. He trailed his palms slowly up her sides until his thumbs were under the curve of her breasts. He gently traced the contours of them and watched as her nipples hardened under the silk.

A part of him wanted to rip the fabric away and get his mouth on every part of her. He knew it was beastly and unnecessary. He reminded himself he had time for that later and to enjoy the heady anticipation. And more importantly, enjoy _her_ \--enjoy the intimacy.

He snaked his hands down to her hips to feel the lacy band of her panties. Her flesh sublimely gave under the pressure of the elastic, and he squeezed the flare of her hips as if to commit to memory the perfect way she fit in his hands.

The feel of her palms smoothing over his bare shoulders made his breath catch. It made him remember they were in this room together--just the two of them. She pushed fingers into his hair and pulled him down to her. His lips crashed against hers--wanting to taste, devour, swallow. He pulled her against him with one arm while with the other hand cradled one of her breasts in his palm.

He walked her into the room while blindly kissing her and pressed her back against the wall next to the doorway. He knocked into the practice swords in their wall mount, and one clattered to the deck. He tore himself back and snarled at the disruption.

He didn't want to trip them up, so he got his hands under her ass and lifted her up. She squeaked and tightened her hold on him as he walked her over to the port-windows. He pressed her shoulders to the cold clear durasteel, and she arched against him. In reply, he rolled his groin against her, letting her feel his growing erection.

But that wasn't what he brought them over here for.

He guided her down to her feet and dropped to his knees in front of her. He pulled the delicate ties at her waist loose and then spread the thin silk to reveal her front. He leaned in and kissed her belly up to her breasts. She tasted fresh and mild, her skin supple against his lips, and he couldn't get enough.

He steadied her ribcage and finally reached her breasts. He drew a peaked nipple into his mouth, teasing one and then the other until she was bent over him, moaning from the overstimulation. He kissed her breastbone and rested his face against her heaving chest. He could feel her fingers in his hair, relaxing as he paused. He slid his hands from her ribs down her sides to cup the back of her thighs. He sat back and told her to turn around.

She turned in his grasp without protest and braced herself against the port-window. The angle wasn't just right, so he put a hand at the middle of her back and nudged her chest forward. She gasped as her upper body made contact with the icy durasteel. The zing of it reverberated in him like fingernails trailing down his back.

He swept the silk covering her back to the side and he took a moment to appreciate the way her ass was presented to him. He loved the dip in the small of her back and way her thighs were parted.

He didn't think she'd be opposed to it, so he used both hands to slap the cheeks of her ass. She groaned and arched a little more as her flesh jiggled in front of his face. He tapped her ass again just watch the luscious way her buttocks trembled. It was delicious, and he spread her flesh to press his face against the lace going between her legs.

He could smell the heady feminine musk of her, and the fine, stretchy lace revealed just enough to tease him. He ran his tongue over her covered slit to feel her press back against him.

That was enough, he decided. He didn't feel like waiting any longer. He hooked his fingers in her underwear and pulled them down to mid-thigh. It was enough room for him, and he buried his face back between her legs. He licked her from as far front as he could manage to the asshole.

She moaned against the port-window and tried to ride his face. She was needy and unconsciously vocal as he pushed two fingers into her wet cunt. He concentrated on her ass, swirling his tongue around the delicate whorl of her opening, as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out of her.

He knew she wasn't going to come even though she was wiggling against him and letting out these broken little sounds. He knew she liked her clit stimulated with oral, but he couldn't do that just yet. No, he was working her up to something better than a fast orgasm.

He moved back and tugged down his pants, his cock springing free and almost hitting his belly with how hard it was. He took hold of her neglected panties and began to slide them farther down her legs. She helped get them off and gave them a little kick so they wouldn't get in the way.

He grasped her hips and lowered her down onto his lap as he angled his hips to keep his dick from being squashed between them. Once she settled, he leaned forward and caught sight of her reflection in the transparent durasteel in front of them. He could clearly see how her eyes shone in the faint light from the stars, the pliant arch of her throat, the plump curves of her breasts.

Her reflection stared back at him as she writhed in his lap. He held her against him as he kissed the side of her neck. She began to speak, but he gently shushed her and whispered in her ear:

"You want me?"

She barely nodded as she said _yes_. He fisted her hair and pulled her head back to his shoulder. Her reflection gave him an exquisite view of her surging chest, her breasts arching up.

"Do you want my dick?" he growled.

_"Yes!"_ she panted.

He reached between her legs to nestle his erection in her dripping, hot slit. She squirmed against him, trying to find the right stimulation. He knew she wouldn't get that perfect placement, so he didn't stop her because it felt good to him.

"Want it deep inside you?"

She bit her lush bottom lip and looked up him from the corner of her eye. "I want all of you," she murmured.

His chest felt as though it had split in two and a deluge of velvety warmth had cascaded from his cracked ribs to flood the room. She could kill him with her sweet love, and he would happily succumb to the wounds.

He loosened the fingers in her hair and kissed her neck one more time before encouraging her to rise up a bit. In the heat between them, he fisted his cock and buried the tip at the slick opening of her pussy. He guided her down and let out a breath as she sunk down.

Her cunt was so hot and wet around him, and his eyes rolled back in their sockets. As she settled back on his lap, he wrapped his arms around her. She had said she wanted all of him, and he thought about them talking about double penetration. He wondered if he could do it, fill her holes, engulf her with pleasure while seeking his own.

He hid his face in her hair and concentrated on filling her ass like he filled her pussy. He didn't try to visualize it, he just had to believe he'd already done it. She stiffened for a second before moaning and gripping his forearms. He had the dizzying awareness of an extra sensation around his cock--it was more muscled, different, and so good--but also like he had been penetrated. He knew it was feedback from her. It was like having a second cock which connected them deeper than merely physical.

She let her weight rest against his chest, and he stroked up her torso to palm at her breasts. She guided his touch, and he played with her nipples again. He wanted to tell her what he was feeling, but he was beyond complicated speech.

He ground up against her just to add to everything happening between them and he felt her quiver in his lap. He whispered to her to bend at the waist as he held her steady. He wanted to see if she was as opened as he felt.

She balanced herself and did as he bid. The sight of her open asshole stole his breath once she was angled just right. She was so gorgeous and pink on the inside. He told her he could see all of her.

"Maybe I should get a transparisteel dildo for you," he hummed.

She whimpered and undulated just a little against him. He asked if she would like that, and she silently nodded.

"Tell me," he demanded and pushed his pelvis against hers.

He would fuck her with it, bringing her right to the edge only to back off. The fantasy of watching her cunt getting wetter and more flushed as he teased her almost made him come right there. He would like to see the contractions of her orgasm as he manipulated the dildo. He would know her inside and out, _nothing_ would be hidden from him.

"Yes!" she sobbed.

As reward to them both, he deftly bounced her on his cock. She tried to move with him, but he told her to stop. He wanted to do this for her, _for them_. He gripped her hips tighter, controlling her body, giving her all of him. He could feel the surge of heated ecstasy building between them. It was driving deep within her and expanding out of him.

Her body was tensing against him, around his cock. She was gasping and curling onto herself, and he knew he couldn't stop. He didn't want to even if threatened. Her hands curled into fists against the port-window, and she suddenly seized in his hold, screaming his name as her body pulsed around his pistoning dick.

Her pleasure sucked him down into a dark bliss that him weeping and cursing and coming. It burst out of him, over and over, taking with it his strength and breath. He all but collapsed over her back. He kissed the exposed skin over her spine. He kissed the silk which covered half of her back.

She softly moaned and rubbed up against him as he caressed her sides. He hugged her after a few moments and pulled her back as he sat up. Unfortunately, the movement made his softening dick slip out of her. A warm gush of his own come dribbled over his cock and one of his thighs as he maneuvered her around so she could face him.

She settled across his lap and wrapped an arm behind his neck as he embraced her. In the light of the stars, she seemed even more of an angel now with her sparkling eyes and wild hair. She reached up to tuck a wayward lock of his hair behind his ear.

"Stars, how are you real?" she softly wondered. She trailed her fingers down his chest.

He held her tighter and replied that he could ask her the same thing. She seemed pleased by that and leaned forward to kiss him. He felt her hand come back up his chest to cradle his face as they kissed. He never wanted it to stop, and time became insignificant with her lips and tongue moving against his.

She finally ended the kiss and pressed her damp forehead to his. She murmured that they should get cleaned up. He agreed since he could smell their sweat and come in the air around them. However, with his full weight on his calves and feet, and now hers as well, they were numb.

He confessed his predicament, and she snorted in a wholly unladylike way which he found endearing. She hugged him and buried her pretty face against his neck. He got an arm under her knees and tightened his hold on her as he raised up to cross his legs in front of him.

Once he settled, he asked if she were hungry. It had been awhile since the minimal breakfast they'd had on Volik. She shrugged a shoulder, keeping her face mostly hidden, and said she could eat. As if to undermine her casual words, her stomach growled.

"You could eat, huh?" he teased.

"I could!" she laughed, sounding a little embarrassed.

He kissed her shoulder. "Well, sweetheart, let's get you fed."


	21. Love Is Drowning In A Deep Web

He could feel the cold wave of jealousy washing over his apprentice at the mention of Nashi. He didn't think she had guessed that he used to have sex with Nashi. It was something to do with the communing--the laying of hands on a menstruating person--that his apprentice had just been the center of. He concentrated on her to come to understand that she wanted to provide for him--share with him. Even in her regenerating state.

He'd missed the cue there. He should've communed.

It was one of the first rituals he'd ever participated in with the Knights of Ren. It had been with Azha Ren, and the visions he'd seen had shaken him all the way down to his faulty foundations. It haunted him--less frequently now, but often enough.

With the taste of bitter, dark wine and menstrual blood on his tongue, he had experienced the first of many glimpses into the future. He had felt his future-beloved's sobs of agony. It had been hazy at first, just a sense of the futility of it all. He came to understand later that he would be powerless and unable to protect her. She might die, and there wouldn't be a thing he could do. He knew it would be all his fault, that he was the monster who had doomed them both to suffer. He had been telling himself for years that the future was always in motion and that not everything he saw would come to pass. Sometimes he believed it.

However, that was not now and neither one of them was suffering. He offered his hand to help her off the gym mat which they had used during communion. She seemed disinclined at first, but she took his hand for him to pull her up. She adjusted her clothing to cover her torso once she was standing and then combed back her hair.

All the while refusing to look at him.

He tried not to take it personally. There was nothing he could say that would assuage her upset. Yideth broke the tension by stating she wanted to work on flexibility with his apprentice today. She agreed, and they headed for the stall bars attached to the opposite wall of the gym.

He watched her go before turning and heading for Baltek. They worked on the strike dummy, and he thought of Rey. He had taken it easy on her on Starkiller, had given her too big of a window to strike him through. He thought of his new scars, his split face. Like a crack in porcelain.

Nashi would've _loved_ the new scar, he thought. She had liked seeing the evidence of battle on the body. Or of sex. Which tended to coincide with her. Neither of them ever walked away unscathed. At the time, he thought that was what sex on the dark side meant: bruises, bloody scratches, and soreness.

One time, Nashi had popped him in the face and split his lip, thus ending their private argument. In his rage, he'd hit her back. She had laughed, spitting blood in his face. It had degenerated from there to him catching her throat in the bend of his elbow and choking her out while slamming his cock inside her. She had quivered and pushed her ass back against him as if daring him to fuck her unconscious. He had met that challenge until she went limp. He had let her flop to the deck, her head bouncing against the dark floor, and he had finished on her back.

He can't even remember what they'd be fighting about. The fighting had happened so often that no one thought anything of it. Even now, no one thought of bringing Nashi up as a bad thing. She wasn't a bad thing, but he wasn't proud of his involvement with her.

He had mourned her in the years following her death. He had killed the person who had driven Nashi's own knives into her chest. He had held her as she died in the snow. She had stared up at him and he remembered that her eyes were the softest they'd ever been. But even with blood gurgling from the side of her mouth, her hand against his cheek, she still wouldn't call him master.

He had mourned her, yes, but there was a part of him which had been relieved.

Kin Al came up to him and Baltek as they took a break and told them he and Jeckhum were going for the weight machines out in the fitness center proper. Jeckhum interjected they'd be doing endurance sprints, too. Kin Al groaned, but agreed. It was an unspoken offer.

He took them up on the suggestion, and the four of them left the gym. There was little talk of communion, or Tammuz-an, or the assassination attempt on Hux they'd all missed. It seemed as though everyone was in their own heads. He didn't really feel like talking, anyway. He had a suspicion that he'd be using plenty of words later in the day.

After a brief wipe-down for each of them, they went to the officer's mess adjacent to the fitness center and had a late lunch of actual food. They split after that, and he went to the aft engineering section like he always did when he needed to think.

It was only the second half of gamma shift and there were plenty of personnel around, but they all afforded him a wide berth. As he walked, he allowed his thoughts to come up to the surface of his awareness and then be graciously allowed to slough away. He refused to attach any more emotion to Nashi. They had been terrible to each other and maybe they had deserved it. Maybe she had thought it was the closest to companionship she could manage. Stars knew, he didn't want what his parents had.

And he still didn't want that. He wanted to be better-- _stronger_. He didn't want a partner who ran away like Han did with Leia. He didn't want a partner who demanded things they knew he wasn't capable of like Leia did with Han. He knew he was going to hurt his beloved and she him, but he was going to hold fast.

Or maybe he was just getting _sentimental_ in his dotage.

He could admit to liking letting go with Nashi. He had sometimes relished the bruises around his neck or how his back would be sore from her digging her nails in him all night. However, he knew even then that it couldn't last. Nothing that intense could sustain itself. Nashi had died before they had imploded, but her death was a deserved cut-off point. She was a line he wouldn't cross again.

He had more control and more worth now. He was no tool to be used and then discarded. He was stronger than Ben Solo could have ever been. He had learned so much since he first took over the Knights.

As much of a learned man that he was, he nevertheless stunk like an unwashed grunt. Or at least _he_ could smell himself. He should've gone back to their quarters and sonicked right after finishing lunch. He mentally shrugged and made his way back through the ship to the barracks.

He wasn't surprised to be met with silence when he finally entered their warmer suite. He knew she wasn't there. Her datapad was lying in the new armchair, and he glanced at its black screen for a second. He was tempted to look, but he doubted he'd find anything there that would shock him. She'd obviously been doing something on it when she had been called away. If he had to guess, and not use the Force to find her, he would say Hux had messaged her.

He went over to his own datapad and checked his inbox to see an official sounding comm from Hux. His presence had been _requested_ for a diplomatic visit to Mol'leaj--one of the Order's sponsors. There was more, but he couldn't be bothered to read it right then.

He threw his dirty clothes in the laundry chute, let his boots air out by the closet, and cleaned the sweat off himself. When he came out of the refresher, he got on a pair of fresh briefs and lowered the blast shields. In the distance was a star system, the _Finalizer_ was above it and tilted to view the orange star and her satellites. He didn't know where they were; he hadn't checked their coordinates in cycles.

He felt his apprentice coming back to him as he settled on the bed to observe the view beyond the port-windows. He knew she was scanning him like he was scanning her. There was a low-level anxiety within her which Hux had partially assuaged. Now he wondered what else was in that comm about Mol'leaj because he could tell that it was that mission which had distressed her.

After she came in, he knew she shrugged off some outerwear and took off her boots. He hadn't bothered to turn to face her, but he could sense what she was doing. She didn't say anything as she situated herself in an armchair. He let her have the quiet for a few minutes.

Finally, he had to speak. "You turned away from me this morning. You didn't want to look at me."

"And you stayed away from me," she pointed out.

He agreed he had and turn enough so he could clearly look at her over his shoulder. "You felt my absence."

She nodded and said _yes_ , but she didn't address why she couldn't look at him. He asked why she couldn't. The silence that stretched out after became alarming, and he said her name to draw her out of herself. She met his eyes--her face a tableau of so many emotions and none of them good--and he had to ask why again.

She took in a sharp breath and curled herself into the armchair as if to hide away. Something had shaken her, and he implored her to speak. At the sound of his voice, she lurched to her feet and hurried to the port-window by the bed.

For a moment, she was still as she stared out into the vacuum which surrounded the ship. "You said you didn't want to commune," she softly stated. "You gave me a sweet excuse--" He opened his mouth to say it wasn't an excuse. She continued without looking at him, "Which is true in some sense, I know, but it wasn't the real reason."

She stayed focused on the stars, using her pointer finger to trace designs on the clear durasteel. Maybe it was better they not talk about this face-to-face. It was easier to confess when not looking at a potentially judging face.

He stated he didn't need it, and it was true. All of what he'd earlier said _was_ true. He didn't need the boost from communing. She gave him something good, something powerful, every day--just by being by his side.

She didn't seem pleased when she questioned him. "Or you don't need it from me?"

"I've seen enough of the possibilities," he bit out and looked down at the rumpled linens in front of him.

"What about the boost from sharing?"

"It's not worth it." He thought of the last time he'd communed. "I didn't know it was you, but you were in pain. Agony. You were crying. I couldn't make it better, but I knew that I should. I couldn't get to you, and you needed me." He knee-walked closer to her. "I see it," he confessed and wanted to reach out for her. "All the time. I can't get rid of it."

She asked, "Is it part of what's coming for us?"

He didn't know and said as much. Everything was in motion, but the constant through the different communions over the years was her. No more than a glimpse each time, and none of it helped. It never revealed enough so he could prevent it. It seemed to taunt him.

"So, you don't want to commune because you don't want to see what could be coming."

"It does not strengthen me. Your pain is my pain. I didn't know someone could feel what you did and survive."

"Maybe I don't," she murmured.

He gritted his teeth and promised, "Then I will kill what kills you."

She fully turned to him then, tense and unforgiving and scared, and he thought she was going to strike him. He wouldn't stop her and he wouldn't blame her. He would take responsibility, though he wasn't the one who had put them on this painful path. Snoke had known that through pain he would gain strength, so it had been encouraged. However, it wasn't Snoke who had changed his life irreparably.

No, it had been Luke Skywalker: the legend, the last Jedi, the hypocrite, _his uncle_.

There would be a reckoning, and his uncle would pay for ignoring and then betraying him. Skywalker would come to understand how one night could ruin not just Ben's life, but also hers. Because if it wasn't for that one night, he never would've found her in the Jakku desert, in a burning village. It never would've been an option.

She stood there, staring down at him. He sat back on his heels and stared back. He knew it was pointless to say he was sorry, and it wouldn't be true even if he did say it. He wasn't sorry. He was greedy. He couldn't leave her alone. He couldn't have left her to die at the hands of the troopers.

He tried to never think of his uncle igniting his green lightsaber and standing over him in the dark--hating Ben and wanting him dead. It never gave him any fuel to fight. It was only a wound that he had to protect and keep pressure on lest it bleed him dry.

He pulled himself away from the memory and offered his hand to his apprentice. "How's your bleeding?"

"I'm fine." She looked down at his proffered hand, her own clenching and then releasing.

He dropped his hand and sat there, not knowing where to go from here. The whole thing started because he wouldn't commune. What a stupid thing to refuse, he thought. It would've made her feel better.

"Would you like to commune again?" he appealed. "Just the two of us."

"What-- _No_." She backed away. "I just want to forget today."

"Even the snake you said you felt in you?" Her haunted gaze had studied him without really seeing as she had whispered at the end of communion that there was a snake inside her. She had said it was waiting to strike.

"I don't want to talk about it." She went for her datapad. "It's not important," she threw over her shoulder before retreating to their training room.

His first instinct was to draw her back, make her face him, and continue by any means necessary. He wanted to go back in time and just fucking commune. Who cares what he saw. He doubted it would be anything new. He wouldn't be thinking of Nashi, or Skywalker, or the agony he had doomed his apprentice to _maybe_ live through if he'd just laid a hand on her bare stomach and opened himself up to the energy they could all share.

He almost got up to distract himself with his datapad, but that was pointless. He didn't _care_ about Mol'leaj. He would show up, wear what Hux wanted him to, be his Lord Commander, and not kill anyone unless requested.

He ordered the main-room lights to zero and got between the sheets. He laid there for stars knew how long, hyperaware of every movement either of them made. He jolted awake when she crawled onto the bed next to him. He didn't know how long he'd been asleep, but all the lights were out now and the blast shields were still lowered.

She fluffed her pillow a little, trying to keep quiet so as not to disturb him. He watched her completely unguarded for a moment before whispering for her to come to him. She startled and regarded him as he moved onto his back. She read him and then let her eyes drift down his uncovered torso.

"No communing?" she softly asked.

"No communing," he agreed.

She nodded more to herself than him and crawled the short distance. She wiggled down under the sheets and curled against him, her head on his shoulder. He covered her forearm, which was draped over his middle, with a hand.

"I don't want to go to Mol'leaj," she whispered. "Hux told me it'd be fine, but..."

"Take your lightsabers and stay focused on the task at hand. I'll be there with you."

"You can't be with me all the time."

"Maybe not physically, but no one can keep me from you."

"You'd even kill a king?" she asked, her voice small as if seeking something from him.

"If he stood against me, yes."

She let out a breathy snort, that he felt more than heard, and she tightened her hold on him. "Let's not go that far," she yawned out.

"Yet."

"Yet," she sleepily agreed.

He listened to her breath even out and soften as the minutes ticked by, and he matched it. Her hold loosened, but it still felt like she had a secure grasp on him. He closed his eyes until suddenly he was in a cantina.

It was too damn hot, though he couldn't really feel the heat, with it being a little after midday on this wasteland in the Western Reaches. He could see himself though he was himself, but he couldn't make out the details of his physique or outfit. He had the impression he didn't have his lightsaber or the same boots. He had a long, dark overcoat on--that much he could tell.

Uncle Chewie was with him at the central bar and Chewie wasn't mad at him. Actually, Chewie _grinned_ at him--or the wookiee equivalent thereof. He returned the grin before looking around the sand-encrusted cantina. Everything was bland and primitive--just like the patrons.

"Why isn't Dad here yet?" he inquired.

Chewie shrugged, like his guess was as good as Chewie's, and told him that Han was supposed to meet up with them after finding their contact. He knew what that meant and sighed. He had a bad feeling about this.

In the meantime, he ordered him and Chewie a drink. While he waited, he watched a band set up in the corner of the cantina. That meant it was going to get rowdy and loud in about an hour. He thought that Dad had better get his ass here before then because he really didn't want to experience what the locals considered entertainment.

After exchanging a few credits for two glasses of watered-down, room-temperature hootch, he leaned an elbow on the bar and turned to face the direction of the front door. Diagonally from him, was a cluster of mismatched people who had just walked in. They looked a little rough, a little hungry. A face caught his eye amongst them: human, female, utterly compelling, with goggles around her neck and a beige scarf covering most of her wind-blown hair.

Maybe not all of them were rough, he thought. One of them looked rather pretty, actually.

She met his gaze as if she felt his stare. She had a look in her eye like a lot of Uncle Luke's padawans did. Sometimes it unnerved him, but with her it was thrilling. He straightened up from the bar and forgot his drink entirely. Chewie said something to him, but he didn't catch it as he walked towards her. She paused and watched him approach; no one in her group noticed her falling behind.

He smiled down at her once he was close. "Hi, I'm Ben," he introduced himself.

She returned the smile a hundred fold, her eyes sparkled in the dusty light of the cantina, and he felt his stomach swoop. She was dazzling.

"I know," she replied, her dulcet voice full of wonder, as she looked deep into his eyes.

-

The two days before Mol'leaj had gone by too quickly, he thought. He'd had a fitting in Tailoring for a dress uniform. It wasn't the standard First Order dress uniform, just like Hux's wasn't standard. He didn't know who had designed it, but it reminded him of a refined version of his usual outfit before Starkiller with a floor-length overtunic which came together at his waist. Under the tunic was a high-necked, long-sleeved shirt which zipped up the front. There was also a long cape which attached to the overtunic. Keeping everything square on his body was a hidden hook-and-eye system.

Whoever had designed it understood what he was comfortable in since all the pieces had a little stretch to them and were black. The only real color in the outfit was the red zipper on the shirt and its pull. He had first scoffed at the pull since it was the First Order emblem. When up on his neck, it looked like a small dog tag as though he were property of the First Order.

_If found, return to Grand Admiral Armitage Hux._

However, the uniform was comfortable and simple. He could admit it was a good fit for him. He liked the way it looked, and he had given final approval.

In the time before they left, his apprentice had been on edge and preoccupied by the dossier on Mol'leaj's king, Solculvis. She had asked him all sorts of questions about political blackmail. She wanted to know about sadism, sexual and otherwise. She wanted to know if he'd had interactions with such royalty-- _beyond his mother, that is_. She'd asked how to address them, when to curtsy.

She had confessed to feeling stupid and every definition of low: low-born, low-class, ill-bred, and unsophisticated. They had been lying in bed, and he had pulled her over. She'd weakly protested until he tilted her face up to kiss.

"You can use the Force," he had murmured as he searched her eyes--they glinted in the starlight. "You're smart, quick." He gave her a brief kiss. "Deadly." Another. "So pretty." And another. "And mine."

"And you're royal," she had teased.

"From a planet that doesn't exist. I'm not sure that counts."

She leaned up to kiss him again while one of her hands smoothed over his shoulder to his neck and up to cup his jaw. He tried to keep his body from reacting to her because he knew she only wanted comfort. Her bleeding was ending--according to her, earlier than usual, and probably because of communing--and while he didn't care about a little menstrual blood on his cock, she did. He thought instead of the future, and of changing her mind about that.

He _knew_ they had a future beyond this, beyond the First Order.

"Don't think too much," he whispered after he broke the kiss. "Just play the game."

"Yes, Master."

They were now on Mol'leaj, in Solculvis' citadel, and his apprentice was uneasy. She hid it well, but he knew her. Her shoulders became rigid, her mouth tightened, her hands clenched. He couldn't acknowledge it or do anything about it, but he saw it.

His pressed uniform had arrived an hour ago via Order protocol droid. The standard operating procedure dictated that the droid would assist with dressing and grooming and then be sent back to the supplies transport. Which at the moment was located offsite. He thought that was a sound idea since the thorilide--that they came here for, along with a sizable transfer of credits--was being transported to an Order freighter as he dressed.

This visit wasn't a long, sybaritic one. On the surface, it was all very refined and extravagant. However, as in typical First Order style, it was a brief trip and only for business.

He could admit that was a shame. The planet was beautiful, a paradise of lush jungle and mild ocean. He wanted to go swimming--something he hadn't done since being sent off to Skywalker. With a glance out his balcony doors, he noted that Mol'leaj's ocean wasn't much like Chandrila's Silver Sea. It didn't matter much, anyway, since he wasn't going to swim.

Hux was out in the main hallway outside his door, he sensed. There was no point in delaying any further. The sun was setting, and the reception for them had already begun. He checked himself one last time before stepping out into the hall.

Hux stepped back to give him room while his pale eyes danced over him. He'd seen Hux's new dress uniform in holos, but in person was quite different. Hux was striking in black and red and silver. The one-shoulder cape was a good fit, too, as it added a little bulk to his slim frame.

"You look good, Ren. Very fine," Hux appraised. "Very handsome." Hux's cheeks flushed as if speaking praise was something new to him.

They both knew that was a lie. Hux was _quite_ the talker.

He stepped up to Hux and traced the thick cord crossing Hux's chest with his fingers. He could feel the flutter of Hux's breath. He offered a smirk as he let his hand linger on Hux's chest.

"What a shame I missed your debut." He mentally sent, _I would've like to have peeled you out of this._ "You're rather impressive."

Hux jerked back a little from the mental invasion. He still wasn't used to a Force-user having silent conversations, it seemed. "I'm glad you approve," he said, voice stilted.

From behind him, Phasma cleared her throat. "Sirs, shall I retrieve Lady Ren?"

Hux gave her leave and thanked her, and he backed away to lean a shoulder on the wall across from Hux. In no time, his apprentice was practically sashaying towards them with Phasma behind her. She was a feast for his eyes in crimson velvet. Her nude-toned pumps kicked at the long wrap skirt as she walked to reveal her bare legs. The modest train of red tulle fluttered behind her. The velvet top's deep-v neckline and belt accentuated the sublime lines of her.

And her face had been enhanced with cosmetics. Her eyes glowed and had a sense of drama about them, her cheeks were flushed, her mouth looked like sin.

She looked every inch a queen with her hair slicked back and coiled like a crown at the back of her head.

She offered him a coy grin, or maybe a hesitant one, and he held out a hand to her. He only wanted a touch, nothing more. She wasn't his consort right now. And if there were more, he'd lose himself completely.

She slid her fingers over his palm and drew in a quiet breath. He guessed she was reading his reaction better through physical contact, and he brought her knuckles to his lips for a soft kiss. She silently replied by turning her hand in his loose grip to caress his cheek and draw her thumb over his lip.

The moment passed, and she turned to Hux to say she was ready. Hux offered his arm to her, and they led the way down to the first floor where cocktails and dinner were being served. They looked regal and untouchable, perfectly playing the part for King Solculvis and his new queen Mithea Nor.

Once they were announced to the party, Solculvis and Mithea greeted them. Solculvis was mirialan with the traditional diamond-shaped tattoos going down one the side of his chiseled face. His skin was a pale sage green and his braided hair was the color of healthy seaweed. His ivory-toned tunic was simple in design and meant to show off his robust physique.

Next to him, Mithea was a beguiling sunset of lavender skin, peach-colored sari, gold ribbons and embroidery, and creamy pearls. She must've been of mixed twi'lek and human descent since her ears were almost human instead of the typical cone-shaped ears. He doubted anyone at their court had the nerve to bring up her mixed heritage, though the prejudice against mixing species thrived everywhere.

Predictably, Mithea focused her attentions on his apprentice and Phasma and drew them away. He tried not to watch them leave for the temporary bar in the corner. Bringing him back, Solculvis asked if Hux was pleased by the thorilide. Hux replied that his engineers had been impressed by such a pure sample which Solculvis had graciously provided. He added to the conversation by commenting that he'd heard that it was difficult to extract it from the substrate.

"It is, indeed, Lord Ren," Solculvis agreed as he swiped two glasses of champagne from a passing tray. "I brought the Interstellar Thorilide Guild to the Mol'leaj system to mine the crystal when it was found on Lejeria--one of Paskora's moons." He offered the two flutes of wine to them.

"Guilds are tricky business, your majesty. We've been lucky so far to find like-minded entrepreneurials like yourself to work with us," Hux said as he nodded in thanks.

Solculvis leaned in. "You must share your secret, Admiral. The only thing these guilds seem to value is credits."

"Yes, loyalty isn't held in high regard amongst them, I'm afraid."

"Not like here." Solculvis held up his own half-drained champagne flute, and they all toasted. _"To allegiance!"_

Hux and Solculvis continued to talk about space guilds or vast properties or buckets of gold or whatever kings talked about. He paid attention, for the most part, and followed Solculvis when he led them further back in the grand salon.

"Now, Lord Ren, you must know a fair number of things about crystals," Solculvis said to bring the topic of conversation around to focus on him.

"Enough to get by, but not extensively, your highness."

"How did you come by your kyber crystal? I hear it is a difficult mineral to find these days."

"There are deposits of kyber scattered across the galaxy. Most of the caves have been stripped or were never real to begin with, though," he replied without answering.

"Ah, Jedi obfuscation," Solculvis surmised with a sage-like nod. "That was something they were known for, correct?"

"But not anymore, seeing as they've been wiped out."

"Save for Luke Skywalker--that is the rumor."

_Steady, Ren_ , Hux mentally reprimanded.

He shrugged a shoulder and a took a sip of champagne. "One solitary Jedi does not an Order make."

"How eloquently put." Solculvis held out his now-empty champagne flute for a servant to replace. "You are not what I expected, Lord Ren."

He reminded himself to look pleased and to not choke such a magnanimous sponsor. "I hope that is... to my benefit."

"Naturally, it is. I expected a warrior, but you are so much more." He turned to Hux. "I must admit that I'm glad you are in charge of the First Order now, Admiral. If you'll excuse the maritime saying, a rising tide lifts all boats."

Hux graciously half-bowed. "Thank you, your majesty. It settles my mind knowing you support me."

Solculvis nodded as he turned his head to met his eyes, studying his face before focusing back on Hux. It felt as though Solculvis was trying to read him as if he was a Force-user. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I need to announce that dinner is served."

That was interesting.

"Of course," Hux murmured.

The king stepped away, and he turned to the side to obstruct his face. "That isn't a maritime saying, it's an economic one."

Hux grinned, trying to hide its snide nature by taking a sip of wine. "His first language isn't Basic. Have some mercy, Kylo."

"He's the one who expected me to be an oaf."

"Did you just try the 'but he started it' argument?" Hux's grin morphed into a full-out smile as he asked the question.

Before he could defend himself, Solculvis was inviting his guests to the dining hall. Mithea came up to him and they both settled into the roles of host and hostess. He threw back the rest of his champagne before following the herd of hungry guests with Hux only a step behind him.

He found his place card next to Solculvis at the head of the table with Hux at Solculvis' other side. His apprentice was chairs away, and he wished to trick someone into switching places with him. He would've rather spent the meal next to her, talking to her. He could've touched her bare thigh as it peeked from between the folds of her red velvet dress. The very thought had his dick twitching in interest.

Instead, everyone sat where they'd been assigned and a minister of preservation--at least, that's what he thought he heard--at his left introduced himself. He offered his name and saw the minister's eyes go wide in shock. He looked across the table at Hux to find him engaged with the king once more. The minister got himself under control and excused his reaction.

He calmed the minister with a small wave of his hand to direct the Force lest the minister's reaction ripple through the other guests. He wouldn't have necessarily done it for himself, but he was here to support his apprentice and Hux. They didn't need the drama of mass hysteria because the rest of the guests had figured out that mass murderers were in their midst.

From there, he asked what the minister preserved and what that entailed. The minister gushed about the rich history of Mol'leaj, of its royalty, of its background in trade. He didn't have to pay much attention, only to nod and make appropriate noises that he was listening. Funny enough, he'd seen his mother do this often. She somehow made those people her biggest supporters. While he didn't need a minister of preservation to be a supporter, it made the time pass.

Their one-sided conversation was interrupted by Solculvis agreeing with Hux and addressing him. He turned to the king with an open look to be asked about piloting a TIE fighter.

Solculvis added, "Especially compared to other ships you've flown. Admiral Hux says you're quite the pilot."

"Hux embellishes my abilities, but I can hold my own." He set his gold flatware down. "The TIE is highly responsive. The First Order pilots are the best in the galaxy because of this."

"You sound like a proud father, Lord Ren," Solculvis said with a fond grin.

"The father in this situation would be Admiral Hux."

The king directed his attention back to Hux. "Yes, Grand _Father_ Hux does have a nice ring to it!"

"You make me sound like an old man, sir," Hux good-naturedly countered while the closest guests tittered.

Solculvis chuckled, "Not yet, not yet!" When the tittering died down and the dishes for the third course were taken away, Solculvis stood and said a few words about being honored to host the finest people of the galaxy. He picked up his wine glass and saluted the guests of honor.

It was only polite to follow the king's lead and drink to the First Order. However, he noticed that Solculvis' demeanor changed from jovial to subtly lecherous when looking down the table. He followed Solculvis' gaze to see it directed towards the queen and his apprentice. He knew they made quite the pair--not to mention a barefaced Phasma smiling for once.

He met Hux's eyes to see the same insight. The king was halfway drunk and very much in search of lovely necks upon which to drape his pearls. His apprentice's apprehension from days ago returned to the forefront of his mind. She hadn't wanted to come here nor did she ever want to meet Solculvis. He wanted to crush the king's skull.

Solculvis sat down, and the main course was brought out. The conversations flowed around him, yet he remained focused on Solculvis. He noted Hux was doing the same.

"Tell me, Admiral, how many courtiers do you have in the First Order?" Solculvis asked as he pulled his eyes away from the far end of the table.

"Courtiers?" Hux asked as he blotted his mouth.

"I know this one is Lord Ren's..." Solculvis bowed his head towards the opposite end of the table. "Apprentice, but surely, she is more than just that."

Hux glanced at him before replying. "She is no courtier since I am no king. She's a companion, yes, and her official title, in regards to me, is consort."

"And how many do you have? Consorts, that is?"

"Just the one."

"And you, Lord Ren? What is her official title with you?"

"She's my sole apprentice and second. My Knights would follow her as they do me." It may not have been the whole truth, but it was close enough. Once she proved herself, it would be, and that was good enough to share with Solculvis.

The king hummed in thought.


	22. Love Is Blindness, I Don't Wanna See

Phasma had informed him during the after-dinner stroll/socializing in Solculvis' gardens that all their rooms were bugged. She relayed that Hux had decided to leave them. He had asked if his apprentice knew about it, and Phasma told him she'd been informed by now.

His apprentice didn't sound unreasonable now that all the evidence of Solculvis' machinations were coming to light. Solculvis had lusted after her, throwing covetous looks at her during dinner. The king had seen them all in various states of undress, when they thought nobody would. He briefly thought of Mithea and if she was in on the spying. He doubted she was ignorant.

He had met up with Hux as the merry evening was winding down. They were both confident that there were no recording devices in the garden, and Hux told him that his apprentice knew about her room. Hux told him to surreptitiously visit her and make it look like she was cheating on Hux.

"Solculvis wants blackmail material, Ren, so why don't we give it to him?" Hux had conspired.

Which was how he found himself creeping along the dark balcony to his apprentice's room. He had to go past Hux's, but Hux had helped matters along by having his doors closed and the thick drapes drawn. It made the pseudo sneaking around easier.

In contrast to Hux's, her doors were open to the balmy night. He stood at the edge of the shadow and watched her at the white vanity. Her lush room was done in shades of peach and ivory. She was the sole red flame, glamorous and self-contained, on a pale throne.

She plucked a makeup wipe from the pouch and cleaned the lipstick from her mouth. She leaned forward to inspect herself in the mirror. His silhouette must've caught her attention because she startled when she glanced out into the night.

He took a small step forward to reveal himself, and she relaxed when she saw that it was only him. He put a finger up to his lips to signal she should remain quiet. He stepped into her suite, closed the doors behind him, and drew the drapes together. He came up behind her to meet her reflection's gaze in the mirror.

He reminded himself that Solculvis wanted a show and decided to get poetic. He told her she looked like someone out of a holodrama: beautiful and untouchable. He hesitated for a second as if he needed permission, or that he didn't know if he could control himself, before putting his hand on her shoulder. He let his palm rest on the velvet of her gown, but his fingers stretched across her exposed upper chest.

"Yet here you are, touching me," she replied as though reading from a script.

He asked if she would want this every night, and she cheekily asked the holodrama aspect or him touching her. He clarified by agreeing to both. She chest heaved under his fingers as she sighed in longing before she told him she just wanted him.

He bent down to kiss the side of her neck as he slid his hands down her arms. "I'd give this to you if you wanted it," he murmured, though he knew she didn't want a citadel like this in the middle of a jungle.

She leaned back against him and reiterated that she only wanted him. She tacked on _master_ at the end, _the tease_.

His gut tightened despite knowing it was a farce. He kissed her neck again, tasting her fresh skin, while ignoring the circumstances. He understood Hux's reasoning, but it grated on his nerves to have to act like she wasn't already his. He dropped the thought when he felt one of her hands in his hair.

He steadied himself by holding onto her waist as he got to his knees behind her. She let him take more of her weight once he was settled, and he glided his hands down her hips to her thighs. From his vantage point, he couldn't see her lap, but he could feel the folds of velvet covering her legs.

He parted the velvet and let his fingertips trail over her silken thighs. He read her feedback to know she had missed his touch all evening, yet she was sore from the heels she had worn and wanted to soak in the bathtub. He commented on his new understanding and felt her momentary annoyance at being read.

Yet she agreed and kept the chagrin off her face. He asked if she'd like company, and she smiled at his reflection while asking if he thought they'd both fit. He was sure they'd manage and said as much.

She checked with him to make sure no one knew he was with her, and he asked if it felt like anyone suspected. She closed her eyes, playing the part of dutiful padawan, and "scanned" those around them before telling him no.

"It's just us," he softly stated.

She turned around on the vanity stool and kissed him. Her passion didn't seem like an imitation in the slightest, and it was easy to forget they were being watched. He could feel her desire in the way she carded her fingers through his hair with her chest pressed against his. It was almost too much.

She pulled back and met his eyes as she tugged the zipper of his shirt down until the tunic over it thwarted its progress. Her gaze sent a warm thrill down his spine as she surveyed him. She spread his shirt as far as it would go and dipped down to kiss one of his collarbones.

He let out a breath as he tilted his head back. She worked her way up his neck, her lips branding him. Before she could reach his mouth, he told her _no more_. He wouldn't be able to take any more foreplay without reaching under her gown to feel the heat between her legs. He wanted to anyway, but Solculvis didn't deserve to see that.

She apologized, but her eyes shone with mischief. He had to give her one more kiss, but he made it quick. She felt so much more calm with an objective in front of her. All they had to do was act like star-crossed lovers.

He stood and told her to get the rest of her makeup off. He went to the bathroom, plugged the drain of the sizable, gray stone tub, and got the water going. It wasn't a swim in the ocean, but it would do.

As he came out, he unhooked the tunic and took it off, draping it over the bed. If Solculvis wanted a show, he'd give him one. He unzipped his shirt the rest of the way and shrugged it off as he turned to his apprentice. He stared at her and offered a little smirk before tossing the shirt on top of his discarded tunic. He toed off his ankle boots and wadded his socks next to them on the carpet.

In a flair of the dramatic, he unbuttoned his slacks and eased the zipper down, letting his hands linger on his groin. It was a complete tease, but he could feel her lustful stare spurring him on. He curled his thumbs under the waistband of his briefs and dragged the rest off in one slow slide. He stepped out of his pants and picked them up to lay them next to the rest of his clothes on the bed.

Hopefully, that gave the spying king something to remember him by.

He walked into the bathroom and found a complementary comb in the top drawer by the sink. He coaxed out any snags starting at the bottom of his hair. He made quick work of it, and his apprentice came in devoid of clothing and her hair still up. He watched her shapely ass in the mirror and silently wished they could have sex. The thought of the warm water lapping at them and sloshing as they rocked together sent a shiver of want he felt down to his toes.

She checked the temperature of the water and perused the bath products set out by the tub. She picked up one of the big bath pearls to inspect, and he told her what it was. She replied with a satisfied hum and dropped it into the swirling bath water. It smelled good, green and floral, nothing artificial or too fruity sweet.

She got into the pink-tinged water after a moment, and he followed shortly thereafter. The tub was plenty big enough for the both of them. She relaxed back into the opposite corner from him and propped her feet on his thigh once he had settled.

He ran his hands over her tired legs until the water level reached the overflow drain and he then turned off the faucet. She relaxed down into the water until she was covered to her chin. She put a hand on his calf and let out a breath as she ran her fingers over his shin.

He held one of her heels in a hand while massaging the ankle joint with the other. They talked about lightsabers--of all things, and it was _nice_. Nice in a way he never thought would be possible. Because he was lounging with her in a tub full of warm, scented water in a palace by the sea. It was peaceful, and he was alone in his head.

Because Snoke was dead, and there was no one to answer to.

Their conversation lulled into quiet for a time. And in that quiet, he mentally floundered. He could do anything, he realized. He could kill Solculvis, claim the kingdom as his, and rule through might alone. He could even take one of the Order's transports and leave with his apprentice. Or he could rip through the night, taking out anyone who stood in his way until the gardens outside were dripping in hot blood and the citadel was burning.

He'd done it before.

She gave his leg a squeeze. "You okay?"

He nodded and excused himself by saying he was a bit tired from all the polite socializing. It was true enough, and she concurred. By then, the water had gotten cooler, but he wasn't ready to leave. He sat up, drained a bit of the water, and refilled the tub.

As he relaxed back, she held up her hands with a giggle. "I'm all wrinkly."

"That's not good," he replied in all seriousness. "Let me see."

She sat up on her knees and leaned forward, holding out a hand to him to examine. He drew her palm close to his face. He shot a glance at her to see her gnawing her bottom lip and then closed his teeth around a fingertip.

She gasped with a grin. "I don't think that's helping."

He briefly released her finger. "This is the only proper therapy for such an affliction."

He kissed her wrinkly fingertip. Her skin tasted of floral bath oil and the faint minerals in the water. He kissed another wrinkled fingertip and ended by kissing her palm.

"You have a lot of experience with this kind of therapy?" she asked as he placed her hand against his chest.

"No. Just with you."

He longed to slide her hand down his front until she wrapped her fingers around his cock. He couldn't do that to them, though. He wouldn't expose that side of them to some horny usurper with a god complex.

She leaned further forward to kiss him, but he barely turned his head so her lips just hit the corner of his mouth. He kept his gaze up so as not to be tempted by the swells of her breasts emerging from the water. The urge to destroy everything was rising within him.

He thought at her: 'If you kiss me, it's all over. Kriff, I wanna touch you so bad.'

She played the near-miss kiss as typical for them to move up to kiss his nose and then his other cheek. When she pulled back, he reached up to run a wet finger over her bottom lip. She pouted her lips and kissed his own wrinkly fingertip before settling back down on the opposite side of the tub.

The end of this damn trip, he thought, couldn't come soon enough.

-

It was late in the morning when a knock on his door broke his meditation. He had opened himself to the energy of the surrounding area and found it _anticipatory_. He knew that was coming from Solculvis across the citadel. There was a plan Solculvis was itching to implement. In the suite next to Solculvis, Mithea was uneasy--on edge. She didn't agree with her husband-- _maybe?_ \--or had another plan-- _perhaps a better plan_ \--that had already been shot down.

Solculvis had watched him and his apprentice last night, that much was certain.

He was already dressed in his formal gear and ready, so he answered the summons to find an attendant waiting for him in the hallway. Hux was behind the attendant, also in his formal attire, as was his apprentice.

"Brunch is served, my lord," Hux announced with a cunning smirk. He gave off the aura that things had worked out well last night. Perhaps they had.

He closed the door behind him and looked to his apprentice. She was stunning in layers of black chiffon flowing from an embroidered netting crossing her upper chest with her hair back once more and her face made up. He could feel her nervousness, but she kept it hidden under a serene facade.

They were guided down to a plush side-parlor with an attached solarium to illuminate the space. The room was more on the informal side, but still was opulent in its monotone cream furnishings and pale wood finishes. The royal couple was putting on a casual air by sitting away from the round table in the middle of the solarium and each drinking a hot beverage from gilded bone china teacups while they chatted.

Once they were announced, Solculvis and Mithea stood and jovially greeted them, inviting them to join them at the table. Hux led the way and sat next to Solculvis after shaking the king's hand. His apprentice smiled and greeted the couple and sat next to Hux. Mithea took a seat next to her, and that left one more on the other side of Solculvis for him.

The solarium had a two white ceiling fans to keep the heat from the sun at bay. It was still bright, though the big potted plants obscuring the corners of the room helped throw some shade on his black-clad shoulders.

The half-full teacups were taken away and a little appetizer of melon wrapped in thin-sliced, smoked ham was set out for them to nibble on as they waited for the first course. Fresh squeezed mauve-colored juice--a native fruit, apparently--was poured into squat thick-bottomed cut-crystal glasses for each of them. The juice was icy and tart.

There was talk of how everyone had slept the night before. Solculvis then subtly bragged about his growing collection of creatures to entice them to see his zoo. Mithea added how beautiful some songbird was, and Solculvis confessed he indulged his wife since birds weren't really his passion.

"But they make her happy and they _are_ beautiful," Solculvis finished and gave an affectionate look to Mithea. She in turn gave him a beatific smile.

What struck him was that Solculvis was genuine in his love. There was no trick.

As they were talking, gilded plates with petite mounds of green rice salad in the center were put in front of them. The gold shone in the sunlight and threw light over the crystal glasses. In the face of such opulence, it was easy to forget animals weren't the only thing Solculvis collected.

He wondered if Solculvis was going to bring up the people part of his zoo. He thought it would be an _interesting_ finish to the trip.

He could feel the peaceful brunch break down when Solculvis brought up _something less than pleasant_ he had to discuss. His apprentice looked over at him, and he glanced back before turning his gaze to Solculvis. Hux feigned interested surprise as if he didn't know what Solculvis was going to say.

Mithea handed over a holoprojector to Solculvis while he told Hux that what he was about to show was nothing but the truth. Solculvis added that he was showing this to Hux out of respect to everyone.

He thought flies were going to start swarming around Solculvis' mouth since so much banthashit was coming out of it.

Solculvis played the recording from his apprentice's room. It was the beginning of last night when they'd been together at her vanity. He was glad that the king hadn't decided to show the nudity part of the evening or the recording from his own room.

He had left her last night after getting redressed following their bath. He had reluctantly kissed her good-night. She had been in underwear and a tank top, and it had been somehow just as sexy as the peignoir he'd given her. He had gotten back to his suite to madly jerk off in his own bathroom. He hadn't cared if he'd been recorded.

He had thought of hands on him, bodies pressed against him, lips kissing him, tongues tasting. It had been a rush of imaginary sensations--phantom caresses, hair to fist and pull, staccato gasps, the wet heat of her pussy, how he imagined Hux's tight ass to feel--which had pulled him into an orgasm that had left him dizzy and drained.

Hux was predictably calm and restrained with the reveal. She was still and staring down at the fine linen covering the table. He watched the holo to see how far Solculvis would let it play.

Solculvis offered a _generous_ solution: keep his apprentice on Mol'leaj. Mithea spoke as if she would be a companion, but he knew better. Solculvis wanted access to her, have kingly privilege to fuck her, have her at his beck and call. Not only as a personal whore, but also as a Force-using assassin.

"Yes, no need to execute her. Exile her here," the king added.

He could feel how off-center Hux was now as he asked, "Exile her?" The thought hadn't ever crossed his mind. Solculvis was moving diagonal to Hux's planned straight lines.

Solculvis then offered to buy her from Hux.

He stared at the playing holo to keep from concentrating on Solculvis because if he did, he would destroy him. Hux was trying to play this to his advantage, and he wouldn't fuck it up for Hux. It was a game, he told himself. _Just a game._

Solculvis finally turned off the holoprojector as he continued to state his case. However, without the projection, he had nothing to concentrate on. He looked across the table at his apprentice to see her looking at him, but not meeting his eyes. She seemed drained of vibrancy, ashen and betrayed.

Hux's voice broke him out of whatever fugue had started. "Am I to understand that you wish to add my consort and my lord commander to your zoo?"

Hux was more than offended, it seemed. Solculvis wanted to take away his lovers and strip the First Order of two of its most valuable assets. This was hardly blackmail anymore, this was full-out thievery.

After a pause for polite consideration, Solculvis stated, "We'd care for any offspring from their union, naturally. The children could even live with her, if she wished."

If he were going to ever have children, they would live free. No kings, no masters, and certainly no _owners_. The slimy greed he could feel radiating off Solculvis--the lust, the absolute hunger, the vision of domination--drove him to his feet. He reached out with the Force to ruin the god-king. He held Solculvis' windpipe in that invisible hand and squeezed as though the trachea was a piece of rotten fruit.

There was yelling of different sorts: distressed and furious. He ignored both, even when Mithea threw herself between him and the king. Solculvis gurgled like a common toad behind her. It was like honey on his tongue.

"Ren!" Hux practically bellowed in his ear. _"Stop."_

He lifted his hand and his Force hold on Solculvis to step back. While Hux informed Solculvis how business was conducted in the First Order, he concentrated on the holoprojector. While he was sure the holo Solculvis showed wasn't the only copy, he didn't want them to play it with this device anymore. He crumpled the projector like an old piece of flimsiplast with the Force just because he could.

Hux turned away from the royal couple, and he followed Hux to see guards stumbling away from the dented walls of the connected parlor. Apparently, he'd been so preoccupied he hadn't known that his apprentice had defended them. He froze the guards with the Force until they were on the second floor once more.

Hux took charge, his voice like iron, as he announced they were leaving. Phasma met them halfway to receive orders. Hux directed Phasma with his apprentice and a trooper to guard him. He opened his mouth to protest, but he felt his apprentice urge him to do as Hux ordered. She wanted to leave--not argue about how to do it.

He turned from them as Phasma and the trooper acknowledged the order and armed themselves. The trooper, known amongst their peers as Thirties, rushed to keep up. He went directly for his belt and lightsaber as soon as he was in his sunny suite. He rolled and stuffed the belongings he'd bothered to unpack as Thirties patrolled the balcony and hallway doors.

Thirties reported that guards had retreated into the wilds of the gardens or back into the palace. He asked how many guards amongst the trees out back as he brought out his things from the bathroom, and Thirties estimated around twenty. He thought that was a lot of minds to get running. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep up any sort of mental terror and defend himself.

He zipped up his duffle and walked it out to an awaiting hover-platform in the hallway. His apprentice was next to the platform, looking anxious and tight-lipped, but ready for battle with her two lightsabers at her waist. Before he could say anything or encourage her, Hux came out of his suite and maneuvered his trunk onto the piled platform. Hux retrieved a blaster rifle of his own from the Order's security stores.

Hux looked them over, found them ready, and ordered them to move out and be alert. As a group, they made their way down to the first floor. Phasma sent one of her stormtroopers for reconnaissance, and the trooper reported back that there were guards blocking the main gate out. Phasma added that there were probably more guards in the lush greenery which lined the circular drive.

Hux pointed out they didn't have to go out the front even though that was a direct path to the Order shuttle. He offered the idea of calling the transport for pick-up in the back, the shuttle could cover them with offensive fire. With a sigh, Hux agreed that plan would work, but it would make a certain enemy of Solculvis.

"I think that already happened when you didn't sell me," his apprentice fumed.

There was a shuffling of duties with Hux taking control of the platform and calling for the command shuttle for immediate extraction from within the citadel's grounds. He gave leave for the pilots fire upon any Mol'leaj hostiles. Phasma ordered everyone in a wedge formation, while he and his apprentice took the back to defend against blaster fire.

The palace was quiet around them. Each footstep sounded like ten, but it seemed that the inside guards were not in the business of attacking. He felt that they were for defense and that they were with the sequestered royalty.

Once they were in the main parlor from last night, the troopers opened up the big glass doors for an easy egress. The green lawn of the garden spread out beyond the pale stone veranda. The warm, gentle breeze fluttered the sheer silk drapes at either side of the open door.

From the front of the citadel came the high-pitched whine of the command shuttle's ion engines. The outside guards fired up at the shuttle, but the bolts merely pinged off the deflector shields of the ship. It was a stark contrast to the refined, sunny gardens surrounding the walled estate.

He looked down at his apprentice, admiring her soulful eyes, her strength, her courage, and gave her a little smile. He wanted to tell her it would be fine. He knew with a steady conviction that they would make it off Mol'leaj intact and uninjured.

Just as the shuttle soared above the citadel, Phasma yelled for them to _go_. From above and behind, bolts were being exchanged between the shuttle and the palace guards. The shuttle's laser cannons blew through a section of the roof, killing anyone up there.

Hux ran the platform out from the cover of the parlor and down onto the lawn. His apprentice and he fired up their lightsabers and covered the base of the acute triangle of their comrades. From within the palace came yelled orders and random blaster fire. Each of them deflected the bolts that came too close for comfort.

They were halfway across the lawn when he heard his apprentice's name being screamed. She fell back a few paces as she hesitated. He could see over her shoulder that Mithea had run from cover and was calling his apprentice back. Mithea begged her to stay, promising that they'd keep her safe. Mithea was cut off by her king all but dragging her back inside.

As the shuttle began hovering over the grass, Hux made the small leap onto the lowering ramp to run inside. Phasma was right behind him, and the troopers covered their escape by continuing to return fire. He had one foot on the ramp when he saw that his apprentice had stopped a couple feet away. He wanted to call to her, order her to get in the fucking ship, but before he could, she pointed Darksaber towards the gazebo on the left.

There was a yelp and a heavily-armed, dark-clothed guard was pulled to her via the Force. She snarled at them--the black chiffon of her dress billowing in the displaced air from the shuttle--and cut their rocket or grenade launcher in half when they were close to her. In a graceful move, she brought her other lightsaber up and tore the guard open through the center of their body. They choked in pain, and she threw them away.

"Let's go!" he urged as he turned off his lightsaber and stepped up the ramp to clear enough space for her.

The stormtroopers folded in around her as she rushed up the ramp to him and extinguished her sabers. He grasped her forearm to steady her and pull her safely inside. She seemed dazed as the troopers filed in around them and the ramp closed up.

The deck under their feet rocked as the shuttle lifted off, and he kept hold of her to brace them both. She stared up at him and seemed to catch her breath.

"I killed him," she numbly murmured.

That launcher could've easily taken down the shuttle with a well-aimed shot, he realized. They would've gone down in the ocean and then would've been at the mercy of the elements. If Solculvis had launched a naval assault after that, they would've been captured which would lead to a major confrontation.

"To protect us," he assured her and let go of her forearm to tap at her hand.

She was gripping her sabers so hard her knuckles had gone bloodless. She blinked and seemed to come to herself as she hooked them back onto her belt.

After stowing his saber on his belt, he followed her to an vacant bench lining the main hold and sat down. She looked up at him after a few moments, and he could see her thought of taking over the ship. She wanted to hide on a planet with forests and live in a secluded cabin--just the two of them. He could see the canopy of green above them, ferns at their feet. They would train and duel and hunt and forage. He would build a fire every night, and they would share stories or read to each other from the datapad they had torn out of the _Upsilon_.

It was tempting, he could admit. He'd have her all to himself. Maybe then, after a few years, they could venture out to civilization. Any war would be over by then. His mother and uncle--if they survived--would never be able to find them, either. The galaxy would never call on them. It would be a peaceful life, but something whispered that it was not the time.

He leaned to breathe in her ear, "Not yet."

"If not now, when?"

"Let me think of something."

She nodded in acceptance, and he gave her a quick kiss as reward. Something changed in her look, a shift in her mood. He suddenly saw burning desire there, simmering below her calm facade. She wanted him--had been wanting him. His gut tightened in anticipation.

Hux came over to them after settling things with the shuttle crew. He sat beside them and outright admired her. Hux told her she had done well, then tacked on that they both had.

"I'm not surprised, really," Hux breezily mentioned.

It was a genuine compliment--to her skill and his tutelage--but he was sure Hux would have later recriminations about his actions at brunch. He would defend them until his last breath. Solculvis needed to feel the power of the Force and know without a doubt he would never be able to control anyone who was the least bit sensitive to it.

Pulling him from his thoughts, Hux discreetly asked if he might call on them in the next few cycles. She looked away from Hux and up at him in silent question. She wanted Hux, and so did he. It was stupid to deny it, and besides, Hux was a generous lover.

"Of course, Admiral," he replied for the both of them.

Hux nodded. "Good. I look forward to it." He stood and smoothed out his formal jacket. "If you'll excuse me, I need to start my report on our visit."

The rest of the short journey back to the _Finalizer_ was tranquil. He listened to Phasma critique formation and hustle. She ended by commending her troops, telling them that they had done a fine job and that she was proud of them. There was a round of salutes before Phasma told them to relax, and then the troopers were talking amongst themselves.

Once the shuttle docked, his apprentice followed the stormtroopers down onto the bay deck. Phasma was close behind, but headed in another direction towards her quarters near the trooper training facilities. He didn't want to keep his apprentice waiting long and he took a step to follow her down when Hux called his name. He turned as Hux approached and watched as he came closer than would be considered professional. However, _professional_ had never been his concern, and anyway, the only ones left onboard were him, Hux, and the flight crew.

"I want to apologize for not confiscating Solculvis' evidence," Hux began. "I hope there was nothing that could later be _humiliating_ on the holo."

"Are you asking if we had sex for Solculvis' sake?"

Hux's posture remained rigid. "In a roundabout way, Lord Ren, yes."

"If we did, would that make you more eager to find the footage?"

"Ren, I'm serious." Hux gloved hands turned to fists. "I don't want a leaked holo of my lord commander fucking his apprentice for all the galaxy to see."

"Or you don't want the galaxy to see how much of a cuckold you are."

Hux sighed. "It's still impossible to talk to you. I don't know why I'm bothering."

He hooked two fingers in Hux's belt and pulled him closer. "You know why you bother." He watched the blush unfurl across Hux's cheeks. The blue of Hux's eyes flashed with ill temper and the heat of desire. "We just took a bath," he assured. "That's all. Whether or not you retrieve the footage is up to you. I know she would appreciate it."

Hux licked his lips and stared into his eyes. "I'll think of something."

"You always do," he replied, letting go of Hux, and walked down the ramp to see Kin Al all but _flirting_ with her. Jeckhum was behind Kin Al, smiling like an imp. Yideth was attempting to hide her amusement behind a knuckle of her fist.

"--big and shiny and sure to satisfy," Kin Al finished his proposition, or whatever, with a tilt of his hips.

His apprentice asked Kin Al something about a first time with Jeckhum. He couldn't quite catch it since she was facing away from him and not talking as loudly.

"And a whole lot more," Kin Al replied.

Jeckhum lost it and bent forward, propping himself up with his hands on his knees. He was beginning to wonder why he kept those two chuckleheads around.

He stepped up behind his apprentice and told Kin Al to quit hitting on his apprentice. Kin Al serenely smiled back and replied that he was simply doing his job for him.

"You need to show her your appreciation," Kin Al finished.

He put a hand on the small of her back to lead her away from his band of idiots. "I plan on it."

She was contained until they were in the turbolift. She broke down in adorable giggles, and he egged her on by telling her to _stop laughing_. Her eyes were watering from holding it in for so long, and he tried to commit to memory her sweet laugh. He didn't hear it often enough, but he wasn't really a funny guy, either.

She wheezed out, "Big and shiny."

"Sure to satisfy," he quoted as he playfully caged her in against the lift's wall.

She smiled as she asked if he'd heard all of what Kin Al and she had said, and he pointed out that they weren't exactly quiet. She softly replied that he didn't like her quiet. He completely agreed--he loved to hear her, whatever she was sharing.

He tilted her face up to him and stroked her bottom lip. "You were everything I thought you could be back there."

She revealed she didn't know she was going to do it. He noted that she couldn't bring herself to say "kill," but he kept with the euphemism when he asked if _it_ had felt wrong. She hardly hesitated when she shook her head. He didn't think she was agreeing for his benefit. That soldier had been ready to kill them all. One life for a dozen seemed like a fair trade to him.

The lift was about to stop, so he backed off and blanked out his expression before the doors opened. There were a couple of officers ready for duty in the vestibule of the turbolifts. He could feel their stare as he and his apprentice passed. In their more formal gear with their weapons, he knew they cut quite the figure. At least, she did.

He got the main door to their star-lit quarters opened and was promptly spun and backed against the nearest bulkhead. The door slid closed behind her, and she pressed herself against him. The warm line of her seemed to steal any question in his mind about what she wanted.

She ran her hands over his chest, down his flanks, whispering that she wanted him, until she squeezed his ass. He replied that he was hers and tried to rub his hardening cock against her stomach. He wanted to pick her up, feel her legs wrap around his waist, and walk her to the bed. However, he could tell her goal was something along a different line, so he let her lead.

She must've sensed his concession because she unlatched his belt and let it fall to the floor. She undid the tunic and shirt beneath it, spreading the fabric wide. She leaned forward and kissed the divot between his pecs and mouthed her way to a nipple. Her hot tongue teased him, making everything tighten. He pushed up against her, and she dragged her sharp teeth over the nipple against her tongue. In the meantime, her clever fingers were pinching at the other nipple. The duality of the hot pleasure of her sweet mouth and the tender pinch of her fingers had his breath catching.

"Oh shit," he gasped, feeling his dick pulse in his briefs.

And then she began kissing down his torso. He wanted to bang the back of his head against the bulkhead because he felt like he was dreaming. As she got to her knees, she lingered where his belt usually sat around his waist. She softly said something about him needing to wear an undershirt because the zipper of his shirt had dug in. He replied that it had been too hot for one.

"I'll say," she purred and held his hips still as she kissed the area one last time.

His stomach swooped, and he reached for her to rest his hand on her shoulder. She didn't seem to mind, or maybe didn't notice, as she appeared fully focused on getting his slacks and briefs down around his thighs. When the cooler air hit his throbbing cock, he drew a sharp breath and cupped the back of her head.

From there it was blur of her velvety tongue lapping up his precome; then at his balls. She sucked at each one, her hand holding his erection out of the way. It felt so good--the tension, the promise, the mere fact that she was controlling him--and had him practically writhing for her and breathing her name.

She drew her tongue up his cock, and he let his head fall back. He couldn't look. If he did, he'd come all over her gorgeous face. He could feel her rubbing the tip over her soft lips, and he clenched, praying that he'd last.

She wasted no time in getting him in her feverish mouth. She sucked and pressed her tongue tightly to the head of his dick, then to the shaft of his erection. She moaned, sending soft vibrations through him and making his eyes roll back in their sockets.

He forced his fingers into her coiffed hair and rolled his hips. He couldn't help it, couldn't stop himself. She moved with him, swallowing around him, sucking his damn soul out through his cock.

As if she whispered it in his ear, he could hear how she wanted to learn to the deep-throat him. She wanted to be braced against the wall, on her knees again, with his dick pumping into her yielding mouth--down her constricting throat. He could almost _feel_ his balls bumping into her chin as they found a rhythm that would work for them both.

He was right at the precipice of climax when he shoved her away. He watched as she slid across the deck on her behind. He hadn't meant to use the Force to push her to one of the armchairs almost across the room.

She sat there, gasping and staring and wanting more. Her chin was wet with saliva, and he couldn't take anymore. He stripped everything off and blindly threw his clothes. She wiped at her chin, and her eyes glittered in the feeble light coming from the unshielded port-windows.

He took a step towards her, feeling like he was ready to rip at her clothes and bury himself in her willing body. With that one step, she fisted her dress and pulled the black chiffon up her legs. It was at her knees when she paused.

"Keep going. All the way," he growled.

She turned fully to him and did as he ordered. He watched as her thighs were exposed and then the barest hint of her panties at the apex of her legs. He needed more, and he told her to spread her legs.

He didn't have the best view, seeing as the room was so dim, but he could see enough to discern that the thin cotton of her underwear clung wetly to her slit. She put her sandaled feet flat on the deck and let her strong legs fall open. It seemed like an invitation and dare all in one movement.

He mentally groaned as he felt precome ooze down the length of his cock. He got down on the deck and crawled to her, watching her as he did. She seemed transfixed and breathless as he approached.

The first touch of her skin to his lips sent a pleasured rush through him. It was just the inside of her knee, but it meant more. She was _open_ to him, and he could trail his mouth up her inner thigh, so he did. Her tender skin smelled clean, like her with the barest hint of the soap from Mol'leaj.

He told her to lift her hips and he pulled her panties off when she did. He spread her thighs again to regard her. "Fuck, look at you. I bet this is what Solculvis wanted to see."

He ran his hands down her silky inner thighs and ran a thumb up her slit. She was so slick and ready. He wanted to bury his face between her legs and eat her out until she was screaming in ecstasy. He looked up when she replied that what they were doing, who she was, wasn't for Solculvis.

She arched and pushed down against his fingers, wanting penetration. He could sense that much, but he kept his thumb resting on her clitoral hood. He asked who it was for and her answer almost floored him.

"You," she whispered as she rocked a little against his fingers

He circled her clit in response. "Just me?"

She nodded and reached for him. She smoothed her hands over his chest and teased his nipples again. She met his gaze and begged for a kiss.

Her neediness had him moving to crush his mouth against hers. He couldn't get enough of her soft lips, her wicked tongue. When she broke the kiss, she gently held his face, studying him all the while.

"Don't make me wait," she said.

He wouldn't deny her anymore and he got her on his lap with a little fumbling. He crossed his legs front of himself and had her lean back a little to easily undress her. When she was naked in his arms, he hid his face against her neck to breathe her in while running his palms over her sides.

She hugged him back and hotly whispered that she wanted him. He didn't know if he'd ever get used to hearing her voice her desire. He held her tighter and knew this was one of the only things in his life he gave a damn about. Fuck the First Order and fuck King Solculvis, and most importantly, fuck anyone who tried to get between them.

She leaned back against his arms at her waist and met his eyes. There was a sort of recognition, an understanding, which passed between them. Her face soften again in pure affection, a ghost of a grin drifted over her features, before she swooped in to kiss him.

She reached between their bodies, and he loosened his hold as she raised up. The first touch of her and then the slide of her wet, perfect cunt sheathing his cock stole his breath. It seemed to have the same effect on her since they broke their kiss at the same time. Inch by inch, she slid down until he almost fully inside her tight heat.

"Wrap you legs around me," he murmured and then steadied her as she got both legs hooked around his hips.

As she settled back, she gasped and brokenly tried to tell him she couldn't _something_. He didn't know what, but he knew she wasn't in pain. He assured that he had her and he did. He would take care of her, get her where she wanted to be, give her anything she wanted.

He began rocking them together, keeping their movements slow and small. She rolled her hips with him, rubbing her torso against his. She pressed her cheek to his temple and held onto him as she made these choked-out little noises that only encouraged him.

He kissed her shoulder, tasting her skin, her sweat. She was so hot, so sweet, so delicious. Each time they came together, it ramped up his pleasure until he thought his head was going to explode from how good he felt. And on it went--unrelenting and ruthless.

She whispered, "Fuck, can't get enough of you..."

He nodded because he felt the same; he agreed as he hit the breaking point. He felt as though he crumbled in her arms, dissolving into the bliss of orgasm. He clung to her as he filled her. His whole body pulsed as he came inside her in fervid waves of pleasure.

As he gasped against her soft skin, he realized that she hadn't come. He tried to acknowledge it, but he couldn't seem to catch his breath enough to finish a fucking sentence. He cursed himself and rubbed his face against her one of her collarbones.

She seemed pleased nonetheless and told him she took it as a compliment. It was all her fault, he told her--her _kriffing_ mouth, her vivid _fantasies_. She finger-combed his hair back from his face and let him gather his completely scattered wits.

After a moment, he put his hands on her ribs and told her to lie back. He guided her down to lay over his folded legs. The movement had his softening cock slip out of her and a gush of his come slide down the juicy folds of her pussy. He tried not to focus on that, but instead smoothed his hands over her arched chest. He teased her nipples and kept going until he had his fingers between her legs once more.

She was so hot and wet, and she whimpered as he touched her. He asked how she wanted it, and she cried for more-- _for him_. He nestled his thumbs on either side of her clit and stroked it, over and over again. She gasped and spread her legs as he worked until she seized with a moan. Her body began quivering and clenching and surging below him.

He knew what she liked and pressed his thumbs to her clit just for the pressure. Once she relaxed, he pulled his hands away to let her recover and petted one of her thighs as he brought the other to his mouth to taste. She was still the tart, salty sweetness he'd come to crave.

She smiled up at him as if she knew.


	23. Well Then Let's Take This Night From Black To Blue

He didn't like meetings for many reasons. One was that he never learned anything new at them. Another was that they never really applied to him and what he did. In all his time with the First Order, he had attended a grand total of four meetings--not counting the one he was currently sitting in.

He would've skipped it, but his apprentice had seen the notice before he had. She wanted to be involved for some reason. He had a suspicion it was only because Hux had personally requested them.

They hadn't seen Hux since coming back from Mol'leaj, which had been three cycles ago. He had been kept abreast of Order goings-on and he knew Hux had been concentrating on finding Revolver's co-conspirators. Apparently, Order agents and freelance bounty hunters had been rather successful since being put on the conspirators' trail--if what Hux was sharing was true.

The First Order had five out of seven conspirators in custody--two of them had been fatally injured while in pursuit. And all five were scheduled for public execution. The idea was to lure Revolver out, but he wasn't so sure it would work.

The meeting ended with Hux dismissing everyone. The underlying frustration that Hux had been ignoring throughout the meeting came to the forefront once more. He wondered when Hux would crack under all the new pressures of his position. He had a suspicion that it wouldn't be long if something wasn't done.

His apprentice was picking up the same energy from Hux that he was, since they both remained in the conference room after the officers had filed out. He stayed by the main door as she approached Hux and let her broach the subject. Hux pretended to be working on his datapad as if he hadn't noticed them in the room.

With tense shoulders and downturned eyes, Hux gritted out, _"Don't."_

_Don't read me. Don't come closer. Don't stop. Don't touch. Don't leave._

She paused for a second before rounding the conference table. Hux seemed to steel himself as he placed his datapad on the table. He told her they would be departing for safer space within the next cycle. It was a distraction, and they all knew it. However, she went with it by approving the idea and addressing him as _sir_.

Hux snapped by demanding why she insisted on calling him sir. She took Hux's irritation in stride and asked him if he wanted her to address him with respect. She creeped a little closer while Hux pointed out that she said it differently.

Hux wasn't completely wrong--she did address him differently than the officers. She put a spin on it that wasn't disrespectful, but it wasn't without familiarity. Sometimes, she purred it and let her eyes linger. It was almost a term of endearment, and sometimes it reminded him of the way she called him Master.

"Would you like me to call you _Admiral?_ _Grand Admiral?"_ she offered with that same purr on the titles as she stepped up to Hux.

Hux pulled himself up to his full height and apologized when he realized what he'd been sniping about. He excused himself by stating he had to get back to the bridge, yet he remained still.

She took that stillness as opportunity and touched Hux right above his belt. Hux stared down at her, mesmerized. She leaned in a little and whispered something that he, being almost across the room, didn't catch. Whatever it was, it flustered Hux into stammering that it wouldn't be proper. He had to guess she had offered to call Hux another pet name or his given name.

In a bold move, she pulled Hux down for a kiss which he didn't fight. He watched them, appreciating the way they looked together and thinking of how each of them kissed. He kept being surprised by his reaction to seeing them together. He thought he would feel jealous, but instead he found himself with a strange sense of pride.

He got to have her every night, and she loved _him_. Hux wanted them, but Hux had to go through him to get them both. Maybe it wasn't typical, or particularly good for any of them, but it worked for him.

The flash of Hux's arousal sparked through him and made him straighten up from his relaxed position against the bulkhead behind him. She warmly wished Hux a good day--sticking a _sir_ at the end--and headed away. She looked pleased with herself, practically strutting across the conference room towards him.

He met Hux's eyes and told him to clean up before he came to them tonight. It was invitation enough, in his estimation.

After they left Hux standing in the empty conference room, he said, "That was... audacious."

"If one of us didn't approach, Hux would never have initiated."

"Maybe."

"He needs some stress relief."

"And you wish to provide it."

"Don't you?" she returned.

The only stress relief that Hux would even be remotely interested in from him was sex. That was fine, good even, though he wouldn't mind going toe-to-toe with Hux. However, he knew Hux didn't think he could afford to lose to him. Hux wouldn't even take the chance. As if his opinion would change because of a match.

So, sex it was.

He could give Hux stress relief. He could offer pleasure. He could take the decision out of Hux's hands.

He began to mentally plan the night's events. He knew Hux would hold off for as long as he could. He didn't know if it was a show of discipline or stubbornness, but Hux would eventually come to them.

She would have to get the ball rolling with Hux because if he did, he wouldn't start it out right. He had barely started the relationship with his apprentice right. Yes, he had made that work, eventually and with her forbearance, but that had taken weeks. He knew he would mishandle Hux within minutes and perhaps irreparably. It was better that she ease Hux in again.

Once they got back to their quarters, he challenged her to a duel. They needed to keep up their fighting skills. As they changed, he admired the lines of her back and decided he wanted to take her from behind. Hux could watch, maybe support her, reach between her legs and circled her clit until she shuddered in orgasm between them.

They could take turns with her, he decided as he stepped into their training room and got a practice sword down from the rack. Then he remembered that was a little fantasy of Hux's, so that was out. Hux wouldn't get a fantasy unless he asked for it.

He went back to the thought of making decisions for Hux. Their grand admiral needed to forget his position for a night--that much he got. If that were the case, they would use Hux in the most satisfying way.

Distracting him from his thoughts, his apprentice walked in with bare feet and plucked two practice swords from the rack. So, he thought, it was going to be one of those days where she was aggressive and assertive.

He liked those days.

The room was just big enough for her to spread her arms with a sword in each hand. She was going to find it challenging, but that was the role of practice. She got into first position without a word, and he could feel the tension rise in her. She playfully snarled and came for him.

As their swords clacked together, he knew she would be right on board with what he had in mind.

-

They were waiting for Hux again. Each evening had been progressively becoming longer since Hux was showing up earlier and earlier. He could honestly say he was pleased by the development.

That first night had been perfect. Hux had knelt in front of his apprentice like an obedient pet--ironic and fitting. Hux had sucked at her clit while he was behind her, holding her hips steady as he pushed his cock into her hot cunt. With every few strokes, he'd felt Hux's tongue swipe right where they met. The tease of Hux's tongue on his thrusting dick had almost been enough to have him forgetting himself and fucking her until he followed her into orgasm.

And she'd been so sweet between them. She had let them touch her and kiss her. She had clawed at the back of his neck as he held her still while he had let Hux taste her.

At the end, she had ridden Hux while he'd fucked Hux's tender mouth. He could see in his mind's eye Hux's relaxed face, his drawn-in cheeks as he sucked. There had been hungry purpose and frenzy and a feedback loop he hadn't expected.

In the end, Hux had moaned and cried around his cock as pleasure overwhelmed him. He had fisted Hux's fine ginger hair as he'd thrusted and came down his throat. Hux's tongue, so used to clever speeches and barking orders, had pressed against the underside of his cock and taken each wet spurt of come.

The whole experience had stolen his strength, and he had collapsed back on the bed. He had curled around to watch Hux and her kiss, sharing the flavor of his come between them. She had stayed on top of Hux, tucking her pretty face against his neck.

He and Hux had shared a look. He'd interpreted it as one of new appreciation and intimate understanding. It had been heated. Maybe it hadn't been what Hux meant, but at the time, he'd been too fucked-out to get a read of Hux. Nevertheless, it had seemed sincere.

During the small hours of alpha shift, Hux had woken up and taken her again. Her soft groans of orgasm had woken him, and in the starlight, he could see Hux's head between her spread legs and her naked torso undulating against the bed. He had touched her then, smoothing a hand over her silken skin and caressing one of her plump breasts. She had hummed and arched to his touch. He'd angled her face towards him by her throat and kissed her slack lips, her soft, pleasure-warmed cheeks.

He'd lay there, his cock swelling under the sheets, watching as Hux rose up over her. The first push of Hux's cock inside her had her moaning and gripping him and the wrinkled linens. Hux let out a growled fuck and took her fast and hard. She shook with every thrust of Hux's hips; the only thing keeping her in place was the hand Hux had spread over her breastbone.

It seemed that the dark had loosened Hux's tongue even more because he cursed and groaned. His usual sharp accent softened as he told them how good she felt around his dick. It had been all Hux could get out before he plowed into her one last time and came. Hux had gasped as he ground his pelvis against her, working his erection in little pumps even as it slowly flagged.

She let out a pleased whimper and rubbed the inside of her calves against Hux's legs. They looked at each other in the starlight, and then Hux was staring at him. Hux's blue eyes almost looked gray in such feeble light.

He could hear Hux's thoughts as if he were projecting them: _Kiss me. Taste her on me. Kiss me._ The faintest _please_ echoed under the mental entreaty. Hux opened his mouth to say it, but he sat up, stopping Hux's words. He pulled Hux to him by the back of his neck and sucked on his bottom lip to start. Hux tasted like the salt of his apprentice's sweat, her tangy come, her sweet pleasure. It was heady to taste her on Hux.

As he had pulled away, he licked his lips and let his hand linger on Hux's jaw and throat. He watched as Hux bent over her and kissed her. He'd heard Hux whisper--his typical accent back in place--"so lovely," "beautiful girl," "couldn't help myself," between kisses.

After Hux had left for the cycle, he got her to present her ass. He had gotten on his knees behind her and teased her until she was pushing back against his fingers. She had been so hot inside, so wet and slick with Hux's come. He pulled her back against his chest and told her to touch herself. When she came a second time that morning, she had cried out his name and writhed in his arms.

But now they were waiting for Hux. Still waiting. He had earlier told her what he wanted to try, and she had pressed herself against him to kiss him and agree. She felt so delicious against him--her curves, her strength. He had gotten two handfuls of her ass and pulled her in tight.

"I almost don't want to wait," he confessed.

She had combed his hair back from his face and said, "It'll be worth the wait." She'd let go of him then and told him she wanted to clean up and prepare.

As she was taking care of herself in the refresher, he found himself pacing. He walked into the training room to adjust the practice swords on the rack. He stared out the port-windows for a few minutes until the entry-request chime sounded. Without leaving the training room, he opened the door with the Force.

He heard Hux step into the room and looked at Hux's reflection in the clear durasteel to see him in a black Order-issued track suit. Hux's hair was free of product again and combed back from his handsome face.

"We're heading for the edge of the Unknown Regions in a few hours," Hux stated as he drew closer.

It was always business first with Hux. Or that was how he broke the ice, as it were.

Hux went on: "I'll want to reassign the Knights to other ships soon. Canady would appreciate having the assistance of a Force-user on the _Fulminatrix_. I was thinking of sending Lady Yideth."

"I'm surprised you haven't claimed that dreadnought for yourself," he countered because he didn't want to think about his Knights assigned elsewhere.

"I like the _Finalizer_ \--for now."

He looked over at Hux. "For now?"

"Snoke's ship is almost complete."

He recalled Snoke's intent on assigning him to his mega-class dreadnought/mobile shipyard, the _Supremacy_ , when it was completed. At the time, he'd had the feeling that being on the _Finalizer_ was a test--of Hux and himself. Or maybe being reassigned to the _Supremacy_ would have meant he had failed at co-commanding a ship. Then there would've been no hiding any discontent with his training and Force knowledge.

However, none of it had happened. He had seen to Snoke never discovering his own apt pupil in Tuanul. Snoke had never seen them coming.

"What a shame he never got to see it," he commented as he turned to face Hux.

"Indeed." Hux's gaze seemed to not know where to rest.

He had to remind himself that Hux was still getting accustomed to him and his body. He was currently only wearing training pants since their quarters were still set warmer. It might be a touch vulgar to Hux to exist without covering up most of the time.

He took a half-step forward. "You can touch, if you want."

Hux hesitated for a few seconds before reaching up to run gentle fingers over the round scar from Rey's attack on the ball of his shoulder. The muscle had healed nicely with no loss of movement or strength. The skin, however, couldn't claim the same. It had a perfectly round divot where the lightsaber had entered his shoulder. It was the same situation on the other side of his body with its long jagged scar trailing up his upper chest to above his eyebrow.

He watched Hux's face as Hux trailed his hand over his deltoid and down his arm. He could feel Hux's appreciation of his body despite his awkward face and the many scars. Hux dragged fingertips down his forearm and delicately around his wrist before letting go.

"Come closer," he bade, putting a touch of the mindtrick in his words. He didn't know why he did it, but it felt like the thing to do. Perhaps his apprentice was right: if they didn't make a move, Hux would be stuck in indecision--too many possibilities.

Hux was close already, and getting closer had Hux pressed up against him. He was all clean, hard lines--wiry and spare. He put a hand at the small of Hux's back and looked deep into his blue eyes.

"We're going to fuck her tonight, _Armitage_. The two of us, together."

Hux let out a breath and nodded before bringing them together for a kiss. He nipped at Hux's bottom lip while he slid a hand down his back to grip Hux's surprisingly round ass. Hux softly groaned into their kiss and tunneled his long fingers into his hair. No longer was Hux the rival desperate to overthrow his standing with Snoke. He didn't know if they were real partners or just allies, but they were forging something new, _something better_ , than Snoke had ever intended.

"I see you've started without me," came his apprentice's voice.

Hux startled and pulled away as if to begin making excuses, but she just smiled as she leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb. She was only wearing an undershirt and panties. He could see the soft points of her nipples pressing against the ribbed cotton of her shirt. He eyed the dip of her waist and imagined holding her there to pull her back against him.

She warmly added, "Don't stop on my account."

Hux glanced back at him, and something passed over Hux's face--a resolute action forming in his mind. They had a goal, he had the idea, and Hux was going to follow the plan. They both took a step towards her, and she straightened up. Her face transformed from an easy smile to sheer want.

Hux was the first to reach her and he pulled them together with hands on her hips. She made a little surprised noise, but rose up onto the balls of her feet to wrap her arms around Hux and kiss him. He came up behind her and trailed soft kisses down her exposed neck to her shoulder. He moved the strap of her undershirt over as he went to taste every inch of her skin.

She shimmied between them, rubbing herself against them, seemingly caught in their lustful snare. She smelled so good and clean, mellow and womanly. Her ass rubbed right at the base of his erection, and everything inside him tightened at the thought of being inside her again.

He smoothed his hands around her ribs to cup her breasts. At first, it's was a tight fit between her chest and Hux's, but she soon pulled enough away to let him caress her. As he brushed his thumbs around her covered nipples, she moaned against Hux's mouth.

Hux whispered, "We're going to take care of you, pretty girl. Going to fill you up."

He felt Hux rub himself against her front, and she groaned at the sensation. He pinched her nipples, tight enough to have her writhing between them and crying out. He cupped her breasts to soothe her, feeling her puckered nipples against his palm. She hummed and swayed between them while kissing Hux's jaw and playing with the zipper of his jacket. Hux met his eyes over her shoulder, looking like the cat who got the cream, and began walking her out to the bed.

He found himself mirroring the expression as he let his hands trail around her sides and followed them. His erection tented the front of his training pants, and he gave it a squeeze as he watched Hux pull her shirt off and drop it to the deck while they got to the bed. She pulled Hux down for another kiss and unzipped his jacket, letting her hands sneak under the hem of the tank below.

She surprised Hux by pushing him down to the low mattress. Before she could kneel between Hux's spread legs, he stopped her with a hand on her upper arm. She turned to him, unashamed in her partial nudity, and looked down at his groin. She briefly sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and reached out to run her palm against his covered cock.

He minutely rocked into her touch as he pulled them together. He held her jaw and ran his thumb over her kiss-swollen lips.

"You want us in you, don't you?" he murmured.

She nodded and trailed her fingertips over his balls. That soft touch was enough to set him on edge and everything below the waist gave a involuntary clench. He felt the cotton of his briefs stick to the head of his cock.

He bent to kiss her, keeping it easy and slow, enjoying the plushness of her lips, the heat of her slick tongue. He felt her hands slide up his torso to rest at his chest. Her breath stuttered out when he pulled away and placed his palms at her hips. He kissed her forehead and then rested his cheek at the side of her head while he massaged her flesh for a moment, absolutely loving the way she fit in his hands.

The massaging pulled her against him, and he hooked his fingers under the waistband of her panties. She raised herself up and tilted her head to catch him in another kiss. He forgot about getting her underwear off and instead pushed his hands under it to get two handfuls of her bare ass.

She groaned into the kiss, and he could hear her thinking at him that she loved him--so much. Her love was wild and raw like the breeze after a storm. With a gasp, he broke their kiss and pressed his forehead to hers.

"Get these off and get on the bed," he lowly ordered. "Ass to me."

"Yes, Master," she whispered and did as he told her.

In the meantime, Hux had stripped down completely and was idly stroking his dick while watching them. He was leaning back on an elbow, his rangy, pale body on display against the darker sheets, and his clothes were in a discarded pile by the bed.

"I think you're overdressed," Hux commented as his eyes swept down his body.

He supposed he was and pulled his pants and briefs down in one go as his apprentice knee-walked between Hux's spread legs. He located the bottle of lube on the other side of the bed and called it to him with the Force. He watched as she bent to lick at Hux's cock. Her back was arched and cute ass was on display for him.

He knelt behind her to see her slit wet and flushed like ripe fruit. He had to get a taste of her and bent to draw his tongue in a broad stroke from as far down as he could reach to over the furl of her asshole. She whimpered around Hux's dick and pushed back against his mouth. He did it again and again until he only concentrated on her ass.

He spread the globes of her ass and pushed his tongue inside her. He heard Hux groan out some sweet words, but he couldn't focus enough beyond her clean taste and the feel of her tight ass. She pulled herself off Hux's dick with a gasp and thrust back against his face, trying to ride his tongue.

"Please," she breathlessly begged, and he pulled away, leaving her groaning and sagging.

He picked up the forgotten lube and squirted a generous dollop on his fingers. She must've heard the bottle opening because she arched her back again and looked over her shoulder at him. He met her beautiful eyes before he smeared the lube over her hole and pushed it inside her. She keened and turned back to Hux.

She was so hot inside, and her body gripped his fingers so tightly. He wondered how he was going to fit inside her again. The last time he'd only used the Force on her, but her body had responded well to it. Perhaps he could speed up the prep time with the Force again. He concentrated on preparing her, spreading her, relaxing her. He placed his dry hand on the small of her back and focused on penetrating her. Her body had welcomed him before in the traditional way and with just the Force, it could do so again when combining both methods.

He thought of the minuscule space between his fingers and the walls of her body slowly expanding. Little by little, her body relaxed until he was using three fingers in her ass. He pumped his slick fingers until she was moaning and quivering. When he added a fourth, she flexed back which had her ass inadvertently caressing his fingers. The very thought of that around his dick again had him pushing his hips forward against nothing.

"I'm ready," she panted to him.

He looked up to see that Hux had sat up to smooth her hair away from her glowing face. He pulled away and wrapped his wet fingers around his flagged erection. Hux kissed her and guided her over his lap. As she settled on Hux's hips, he could see the gloss of lube and slick between her legs.

Hux lavished open-mouthed kisses over her neck and shoulder as he laid back, taking her with him. The view got even better with Hux's flushed cock pressed against her mound. She wiggled in his arms, rubbing her front against his. Hux slid his hands down her back to massage her rear, and she hummed in pleasure.

"Let's show Kylo how gorgeous you are," Hux murmured and spread her flesh.

Her cunt was flushed pink and so wet. Her asshole was relaxed and lubed up. She looked downright delectable, and he wanted to devour her and fuck every part of her.

"Isn't she perfect?" Hux rhetorically asked.

"Yes, _fuck_ ," he grit out.

"Are you ready for us, beautiful?" Hux went on. "Want us both in you? Do you think you can take it?"

"Yes, please!" she half-wailed and fisted the sheets. _"Fuck me!"_

He squeezed a little more lube on his throbbing cock and spread it around as he got a little closer. He trailed his dry hand over her calf and up her outer thigh. She writhed between them, seemingly not knowing who she wanted to be closer to more. Hux made the decision for her and encouraged her to sit up so he could take hold of his own erection.

As the tip of Hux's cock slipped along her sopping pussy, he hissed out how wet she was. She whimpered a 'uh-huh' and moved with him to get him where she wanted. When she found the perfect angle, she drove herself down in one smooth motion. They both moaned as she seated herself and ground down a little.

His cock gave a jerk at the sight, and pre-come mixed with the silky texture of the lube. He watched them rock together a little, adjusting to the new sensations. He could've sat there, stroking his cock as they squirmed their way to orgasm. She stopped him from doing just that by looking over her shoulder at him.

"What're you waiting for?" she breathed, and he had a flashback to Coruscant. She'd asked that the first time they were together.

Hux spread her ass in invitation, and he straddled one of Hux's thighs to get closer. He put a hand on her hip and nestled the head of his dick against her slick hole.

"Give it to me," she whispered as she braced herself against Hux's shoulders.

In a slow, hot slide, he pushed his cock inside her tight ass. Below him, she choked on a gasp that was all consonants. He wiped his lubed hand on his chest and put it at her waist to steady them both. He could see Hux over her shoulder, and Hux had his head thrown back and his mouth open in a silent gasp.

She was pulsating around him like she was already coming. It felt too good, and he knew that none of them were going to last very long. He leaned over and kissed her shoulder as he pushed all the way in.

 _"Oh fuck,"_ she breathed and settled between them.

"Good?"

"So good. Oh stars, _so good."_

He began easy, just rocking her to control the pace until Hux wanted to join, and her breath stuttered out as he moved her. It didn't take long before Hux took the initiative and dug a heel into the bed to thrust up counter to him. He could feel Hux's cock moving inside her sweet pussy. It was symbiotic and searing connection and nothing like he expected.

He threaded an arm under one of hers and around her chest, and began to fuck her in earnest. He braced himself with a hand on the bed and thrust into her quivering body. He felt the ridge of Hux's glans piston inside her, ratcheting up the sensation with every stroke.

She was wordlessly gasping and clawing at the bed as though searching for something amongst the rumpled sheets. He sat back a little and pulled her with him. The change in position must've hit something perfect in her because she let out a cry and tensed all over. The sudden tightness had him and Hux groaning.

"That's it, sweetheart, let go," he murmured in her ear as he shoved his cock in as deep as it would go.

"I'm gonna come," she sobbed.

"I know, we can feel it."

And he could. She couldn't hold still, couldn't hide from them, as they pounded against her. He met Hux's eyes over her shoulder and silently urged him to come. He wanted to watch Hux lose himself. He wanted to feel Hux's cock pulse and spill deep inside her.

It would drive her over the edge. Maybe him, too.

Hux began to move faster, cursing as he did, his accent softening in the throes of such intensity. He maintained a slower pace, keeping to a tighter roll of his hips. She clamped a hand around his arm and moaned until her breath caught in her throat. She pulled against his hold and then arched back to rest her head against his chest, gasping as she did. Her body seized and bore down, all of her convulsing and throbbing around them.

It was too much. It didn't stop. Her orgasm seemed to pull him into a pleasurable spiral that left him breathless and dizzy. Distantly, he felt Hux peak and come over and over inside her in thick gushes. It was so good--blinding and dark and overwhelming. His own orgasm kept after him like a predator, swiping at him until he was almost too tired to hold himself up.

He slumped with her in his arms, hugging her and mindlessly mouthing at her soft skin. He could hear Hux's breathing with them as though they all shared lungs. He slid a hand down her body to find her pubic hair soaked with come and sweat. She jerked in his arms as he gently stroked her tender pussy around where Hux was still buried inside her.

Hux jerked at the contact while she half-heartedly protested that she couldn't come again, but that wasn't the goal. His fingers came away wet with their pleasure, but that was all. He licked at his fingers--tasting salty sweat and her tangy slick and Hux's acerbic come--and then kissed her neck.

Hux reached for her and pulled her down to lay on him. He warned them was going to pull out, and she whined like she didn't want him to go. Some part of him wanted to stay inside her until he got hard again to fuck her once more. However, he needed to make sure she was okay. He instructed her to bear down a little to make it easier and then pulled his cock free.

His come dripped down from her ass to ooze over Hux's softening dick. He spread her open a little and rubbed his thumb over her well-fucked, lubed hole. She moaned his name into Hux's neck and pushed back against his hands. The motion dislodged Hux's cock, and more come ran down her pink slit.

They were messy and wet and sensitive, and he couldn't give a damn about any of it as he crawled next to Hux to collapse. He flopped down and sighed as he ran his hand over any flesh that was closest. Hux grinned at him, his blue eyes soft for once and his usual sallow cheeks were flushed.

He returned Hux's grin and began thinking about their next night together.


	24. Climbatize

There were five dead bodies in front of him and the klaxons blaring overhead. The robotic PA echoed through the large hangar there were fast-approaching ships with five seconds to impact. He hoped the turbolasers took out a few before they got too close. He looked down at his apprentice's frightened face and grabbed her hand.

He ran with her towards the interior of the ship, his Knights behind them and the other personnel swarming around them. The crash was like an earthquake through the hangar, and they all fell. The sound of it was a grinding, squealing cacophony which overwhelmed him for a moment.

From the frizzle of friction-hot metal came the distinct sound of a hatch opening. There was no time to lose, and he scrambled to his feet. His apprentice and his Knights dove with him behind the shelter of the dais where the execution had taken place.

On their side of the dais, stormtroopers rushed into the hangar to thwart the invaders. He pulled his apprentice close to keep her from being trampled and tilted her head to look up at him. He wished he wasn't wearing his helmet so she could see him without obstruction, but it was safer for him this way. He knew he was going to be a target.

"If we get separated, meet me in Hangar 11," he said as he pushed her cowl back. His private Upsilon and Yideth's freighter were docked there and ready for sortie at a moment's notice. If he had to, he could blast his way out, or do the improbable: lightspeed out.

"You ready?" he asked, and she shook her head. "Don't turn away. Stay with me. Together we can win."

Her breath stuttered out of her chest, and she nodded. He wanted to kiss her, but there wasn't time for that. He let her go and ordered Baltek to help protect the ship's bridge, but mostly it was for Hux's sake. It was standard procedure for highest ranks to manage from the command levels, and he was sure Hux had already run for the turbolifts. Jeckhum, he ordered to find high ground and sharpshoot while Kin Al was to support Phasma across the ship in Hangar 2. That left him, his apprentice, and Yideth to defend their current position in Hangar 3.

He fired up his lightsaber and came out from behind the dais. His blood sang as he ran for the first invader. He slashed open one after the other--seeing Resistance patches on some of the uniforms. The stormtroopers were doing a fine job of cutting down the numbers of the initial wave.

The hangar was filled with blaster fire and screaming--from the dying and the fighting. There was the buzz of electrified melee weapons--reworked Order tech for riot control. They were brutal and could repel laser weapons--like lightsabers. It was inconvenient, but not unconquerable.

Because the flesh couldn't claim the same melee capabilities.

The second wave of invaders were fewer in number, but had better blasters. He instinctively knew they were for infiltration and he concentrated on deflecting their blaster bolts. Between him and Yideth, they decimated that wave. However, there were a few who got past--as always.

He told Yideth through private comm to get them and turned back to the remaining enemy. As three invaders ran for him, screaming like berserkers, bolts shot down from behind him and took them down. Before he could say anything, Jeckhum sing-songed:

"I got my eye on you!"

"Get your eye on the enemy and off my ass."

"But your ass is lookin' tasty in those new rags, Master!"

He hn'ed in the most unimpressed manner he could muster--though he was flattered, and he knew Jeckhum could feel it--as he secured his lightsaber at his waist and looked around the hangar to see only stormtroopers standing. He turned to watch Yideth power off her lightsaber and hook it on her belt. However, the one he needed to see was nowhere in sight.

He bit out, "Where is she?"

"Took off after a few second-wave creepers," Jeckhum replied.

"Yideth, that was on you."

She enunciated, "I'd been a little preoccupied."

He cursed and ran out into the passageway to see no one. Yideth was right behind him as he checked on the status of the ship. Hangars 3, 7, 4, and 8 had been compromised, he read. No other updates, which he didn't think was a good sign. Nevertheless, he had to press on and find his apprentice because he had a feeling the _Finalizer_ might be lost.

He looked down the passageway towards Hangar 7. It was difficult to feel her with the surge of adrenaline inside him, but he thought he could sense her more in that direction than over towards 2. He turned back to Yideth to see her nod that she was with him. Before they left, he told Jeckhum to shoot any stray invader who came out of the ship and then head to 11 for regroup.

With that, he and Yideth jogged past an empty Hangar 5 and beyond. As they came closer to Hangar 7, he could see a tumble of large plastoid crates at the dogleg around it. The bulkhead behind the crates was streaked with gore and something about it screamed of his apprentice. His gut tightened and prayed that it wasn't her blood.

They stopped at the edge of the toppled crates to see multiple bodies in various states of crushed between the wall and crates. None of them were her. He looked to Yideth, and she him, and they shared a pleased huff of a laugh over their helmet comm. He knew from seeing the aftermath exactly what his apprentice had done.

He wanted to howl with pride.

Instead, he searched for her to find her heading for the other side of the ship. She was rattled, but ready. He told Yideth his feeling, and she agreed with his assessment.

"I know a shortcut. Follow me," he stated and backtracked to the nearest corridor which connected to the interior passageways.

They zigzagged towards the fore of the ship. In the distance, he heard blaster shots and yelling. He unhooked his lightsaber and ran for the chaos. Before they reached the main starboard passageway, where most of the noise was coming from, he felt someone he hadn't felt in ages. It was unmistakable, and it stopped him in his tracks.

_Luke Skywalker._

Yideth came back to him when she saw that he had stopped running. "What is it?" she asked.

He was glad she couldn't see his face. He was sure all the blood had drained from his head. He didn't know how to answer. He couldn't tell the truth. He couldn't say Luke Skywalker was his former master.

"Don't you feel them?" he returned.

Yideth paused and then got out her blaster and lightsaber. "They're strong with the Force." She turned towards Luke's presence. _"Jedi,"_ she hissed.

He nodded and confirmed, "Luke Skywalker."

"There's two."

Beyond Luke's bold signature in the Force was an equally powerful presence. _Rey._ He felt the scar going up his chest and over his face like it had just grown teeth. He wanted to destroy her, remake her, and claim her for the Knights. He wanted her to know it was he who had broken her and ruined her dreams of the island in the middle of a cold ocean. He would show her how much of a monster he could be.

Rey could've been at his side and learned the true ways of the Force, but instead she'd chosen a two-faced paper tiger who couldn't stand to see anyone stronger than himself. And she would pay for that decision.

But first, his uncle.

"Skywalker's mine," he growled.

He ran for Skywalker, trusting Yideth to her own fighting as he let his gut guide his feet. He felt Ben Solo's fear from that night with each footstep, with every enemy--Resistance fighter and conspirator alike--who stood in his way. He let it settle on his shoulders like a cape as he cut them down. He would avenge himself and destroy the Jedi once and for all.

Skywalker was waiting for him at the edge of the mayhem. He had the audacity to not even have his lightsaber drawn. He looked tired and _guilty_. His long robes were the same pale robes he'd worn that fateful night--as if Skywalker were an innocent, as if he hadn't tried to murder his own nephew.

_The hypocrite._

"Are you here to finish the job you couldn't all those years ago?!" he demanded of his uncle and pointed his lightsaber at him.

Skywalker shook his head. "No, Ben, I don't want to kill you."

He gritted his teeth at the use of that dead name. "You certainly did that night!"

He ran for Skywalker, ready to slice him in half. At the last second, Luke ignited and blocked the blow with the green blade of his lightsaber. The sparks spit between them as the plasma ground together. He stared into his uncle's eyes and saw only regret.

Maybe regret for not having the guts to actually go through with killing Ben Solo.

"I thought you were gone," Luke strained to get out. "Ben, you weren't acting like yourself anymore."

"How was I supposed to act?"

He pushed Skywalker back into Hangar 4 and stalked after him. Snoke had been right: Luke had wanted Ben to cower before him and never get stronger. He spun his saber to adjust his hold. Luke had held back information and kept knowledge from him. Luke had tried to kill him when he'd begun to come into his own.

"You were shrouded by darkness," Luke explained himself. "I thought you'd been taken over by Snoke."

He spun close and whipped his sword down at Skywalker, but his attack was blocked. Luke held the parry, then pushed him away and tried to reverse the strike. They went back and forth, each time getting closer to landing a fierce blow.

Luke went on as he spun his saber around: "I thought he wore your face, and you were gone. I was coming to free you."

_"Liar!"_ he yelled and tried to strike from overhead. "You didn't care about _me_. You only cared about being the master!"

Luke blocked the hit. _"No_ , I cared about being your unc--"

From the left, Kin Al bowled into Skywalker and knocked him off his feet. Luke landed hard on the deck, and his lightsaber tumbled from his cybernetic hand, as Kin Al pounced. He took a step forward to stop the attack because Kin Al didn't need to assist him, but his attention was pulled away by someone screaming for Luke. He glanced over to see Rey running for them, his grandfather's blue lightsaber lit in her hand.

He looked back to see Kin Al hovering over Luke, his fists linked to smash them down on Luke's head. Just as he was yelling for Kin Al to stop, Kin Al brought his fists down on Luke's face. The fatal blow never landed as Luke surrendered to the Force and left only his robes and lightsaber behind.

With the power of such a blow, Kin Al knocked himself off balance and tumbled forward with a grunt of pain just as the blaster bolts began peppering their location. He grabbed Kin Al by his shoulder armor and tried to make a scrambling run for cover while trying to slow the bolts--all the while feeling Rey getting closer. He knew he hadn't succeeded thwarting the bolts when Kin Al grunted and slumped from his hold. He looked back to see that a clean shot had gone through Kin Al's chest.

He had been so stupid, he realized. He could've blocked the bolts with his lightsaber. That was one of the fundamentals. What the hell was wrong with him?

Kin Al coughed blood and relaxed back on the deck. "Shit, he's gonna be--" Kin Al gurgled as he dragged him to safety, "So pissed." He spat blood. "Best go, Kylo. Kill the last of 'em."

He nodded and let go of Kin Al to face the enemy fire head-on with Rey coming for him on his left. He reached out and froze the bolts midair as he felt Kin Al let go. There were half a dozen sizzling, blue-tinted bolts at various heights. He sent them back with a shockwave that knocked the shooters to the deck.

"Kylo, you coward!" Rey screamed and leapt into the air.

He dodged her and held up his lightsaber to block her next blow. Tears were gathering in Rey's eyes and they seemed to fuel her attack, but it also made her sloppy. Her strikes lacked precision, but they had real power behind them.

"First, your father, and now your uncle," she cried. "You're nothing but a monster!"

_"Exactly."_ He went on the offensive then and let his full, _monstrous_ strength clash against his grandfather's lightsaber and throw Rey off.

She grunted with every hit, but parried them well. She flowed with the Force when she began to concentrate, and he felt as though they were dancing. It wasn't as good as dueling his apprentice, but Rey had a certain vibrancy that felt similar.

Yideth's comm crackled to life, and she asked if he wanted help dispatching the Jedi. He requested her location, and she replied she was at his seven. He told her to get his apprentice and head for Hangar 11, for he would be there soon enough. At this rate, Rey was going to tire, and he would take advantage of that to be victorious.

Yideth acknowledged his orders and disappeared into the skirmish in the main passageway. He focused on subduing Rey and knocking her head from her neck. She shrieked when her blade went wide and she stumbled back. He got her on the right side of her back, slicing up her latissimus dorsi and disabling her right arm.

He heard someone bellow Rey's name, and he looked up to see the traitor, FN-2187, running for them. He didn't want another Starkiller fight--he was going to end this now. He raised his saber for a killing blow only to be hit by something that threw him forward. As he staggered forward and turned to get the person who had hit him, Rey wildly swung her lightsaber with her left arm. In a stroke of pure luck, her saber connected with his right forearm and severed his lower arm.

The pain didn't hit at once. It took a moment for the burning agony to reach his brain. And in that moment he collapsed to his knees and lost all the air in his lungs. He couldn't breathe, couldn't scream, couldn't hear, _couldn't think_.

When the pain finally hit, it was too much to bear and he bent over to retch, but nothing came out. It was as though everything in him refused to work. He struggled to get his feet under him, but he was thwarted with a perfect kick to his side. He toppled over, and his helmet took the brunt of the fall.

He could see his severed, gloved hand laying feet away through the visor of his helmet. The forearm side was charred and smoking. He thought he could smell the burnt-meat scent of his own body, but he knew logically that wasn't possible. Because his helmet was still on--

Rey grabbed the mouth-piece of his helmet and yanked the whole thing off with a pained yell. He could smell that sickening scent now and he fought the urge to retch all over again. To focus, he reached up with the Force to choke the fucking life out of her. She gagged and struggled until he was hit hard on the side of the head by a third party. The blow knocked his face to the side and everything started to dim. The last thing he saw was FN-2187 ruining his lightsaber with an electrified baton.

Apparently, he wasn't going to make it to Hangar 11.

-

He woke up in the _Finalizer's_ brig. His stump of an arm was crudely bandaged, his head felt fuzzy, and he couldn't feel the Force. He couldn't reach out to feel his apprentice or his Knights. He couldn't feel _anyone_.

He felt suffocated and cut off, tiny and weak, and his heart was going explode as it tripped into overdrive. He told himself to just breathe. There was an explanation for everything. It began to work when he closed his eyes and told himself it wasn't permanent. Nothing was permanent. It didn't matter if it was the truth.

When he calmed, he stared up at the blurry ceiling of his cell from where he'd been dumped on the deck and assessed his situation. Part of his arm was gone, check. His lightsaber had been destroyed, check. His ability to use the Force was gone, check. He'd been imprisoned on his own ship, check.

Nothing he couldn't handle. _Just a typical day._

There was something around his neck, something new and metal and heavier than a simple necklace. He brought his hand up to feel it before realizing he was trying to use his right. He switched hands and felt a wide metal collar around his neck. It wasn't tight, but he certainly couldn't push it past his chin. He had a feeling that the collar was keeping him from using the Force.

If he could somehow remove the collar, escape would be possible. He would be able to rendezvous with his Knights. _His apprentice._

He didn't even know if they'd made it off the ship--if they'd made it at all. They could be in the next cell for all he knew.

He sat up and let out a breath as one of his temples throbbed in protest. That was _normal_. That was something he could work with. However, he didn't want to work with it on the cold deck. He eased himself onto the shelf bed. It was awkward, and he bumped his stump of a right arm more than once trying to get up.

He didn't know how he was going to live with only one hand, but that was something to worry about later. He might get an infection and keel over before having to worry about it at all.

He perched on the shelf bed and waited for innumerable minutes. In all likelihood, it had only been a few when he heard voices coming from the passageway outside the cell door. He straightened up and hid what was left of his right forearm inside the outer tunic of his formal uniform. He discovered it was rather comfortable to let it rest above his belt.

The cell door opened and in stepped Leia Organa. Behind her, out in the passageway, were a few commanders. One of them addressed her as general, and brought her attention back to them. They protested against her seeing him, but she quieted them with a raised hand.

"I will speak to him alone," Organa stated. "I'm not in any danger." She turned back to him. "Close the door."

Her presence was much larger than her petite frame, and she could still fill a room with her steadfast energy. He didn't need the Force to feel her. She looked like he remembered, too. Her hair was styled differently and it was more gray now than when he'd last seen her. She wore a floor-length gray dress and a long coat the color of durasteel over it.

They stared at each other for a minute before Organa cleared her throat and took a step closer. "When was the last time you saw Admiral Hux?"

He looked towards the now-closed cell door before replying. "At the execution."

"Where were you directly after the execution?"

"You mean when the Resistance attacked?" he pointed out. "In the hangar where the execution took place."

"So you didn't see where Admiral Hux went?"

The question implied that Hux wasn't onboard--alive or otherwise. He could work with that, he decided.

He offered, "No, but I could find him."

"How would you do that?"

"Get this collar off me, and I'll find him for you since you and your commanders obviously lost him."

Organa sighed, and he thought it might be in disappointment. "Ben..."

That silenced him quicker than anything ever had. It always had and probably always would. He ducked his head and wondered why he suddenly had the urge to apologize. He had nothing to be sorry for in this cell, he told himself.

She studied him for a quiet moment. "Did you kill Snoke?"

He knew she already knew the answer. And did it really matter if he damned himself now? "I wasn't alone," he muttered.

"Why did you do it? Was it because of your father?"

He wanted to shout that he would never do anything in the name of his father. He hadn't killed Snoke because of _Han Solo_. He had done it for self-preservation, for his apprentice's safety, and nothing more.

There was a caviling voice at the back of his mind which called him a liar.

"I don't need to explain anything," he finally settled on.

"I guess you don't," Organa chided and then nodded to his partly hidden arm. "I'll get a medtech in here with some antibiotics for that."

He wanted to refuse medical treatment. He didn't want any help. His arm would heal and scar just fine on its own. That didn't need any medical intervention. He wanted to be left alone. That was what his family was good at. That, and attempted murder.

"Just make sure they don't come here in the middle of the night and try to kill me," he sharply suggested at Organa's retreating back.

She turned around at that. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Why don't you ask Uncle Luke? Oh wait, you can't since _he's dead_."

He didn't see it coming, but the sting across his cheek from his mother's slap was certainly felt. He let his hair obscure his hot face. She stood there for a moment, silent and grave.

"I know what you're trying to do, Ben," she murmured. "And it will not work with me."

"Do what you must, General Organa."

She briefly put a hand on his bent head before stepping away. "Rest," she advised. "Don't fight the medtechs."

Organa left the cell, and he allowed himself to slump onto the hard surface of the bed. He lay there and thought about Kin Al and Luke and the whereabouts of his apprentice. Kin Al's death had been meaningless and stupid. He should've blocked the blaster fire with his lightsaber. That was part of its job.

He reasoned he had been distracted by his uncle's dramatic death. Of course, Luke Skywalker would go out leaving all his worldly possessions behind. Along with a barely-trained pupil. Rey still needed a teacher, but he certainly wouldn't be it--not after she'd taken part of his arm. No, forget her. She was on her own.

He hoped that the rest of the Knights and his apprentice had made it off the _Finalizer_. He couldn't imagine what the Resistance would do to them. They could be used against him, or vice versa. They could all be put on trial for war crimes--which was probably why they wanted Hux so desperately. Sentencing Hux would be a rallying point for the galaxy.

He drifted off somewhere between thoughts, and was awoken by his cell door opening once more. He sat up and squinted at his visitor: a medtech in pale gray scrubs with a medical droid gliding behind her. He didn't recognize her, but that didn't mean she wasn't part of the First Order.

The door to the cell remained open, and he could see the elbows of two Resistance guards beyond the threshold. He doubted he could make it much past the guards with the Force-dampening collar around his neck. However, if he could get the medtech to remove it, he might have a chance.

She gave him an Order salute and addressed him as Lord Ren. He swung his legs over the side and returned the salute. She stated her business: administering antibiotic, injecting the first round of a muscle relaxant, and cleaning/re-bandaging his wound.

"Why the muscle relaxer?" he asked.

"You're going in for surgery tomorrow, sir. The relaxant will help with electrode attachment to nerves and muscles." She tacked on, "The coupling plate will be fitted and attached tomorrow as well."

"On whose orders?"

"I believe General Organa's, sir."

So, it wasn't medical treatment to insure he survived to trial. His mother wanted him to have a new arm and live with it. He didn't know which was worse: having a new hand provided by the Resistance or living without his saber hand. He supposed a new hand would be beneficial in prison.

"Fine. Do it." He lay down for her, his right arm out into the cell.

The medtech got to work, fussing with the old bandage, examining the charred stump of his forearm. He tried not to think about what it looked like. He had to remain focused on escape.

"Can you get this collar off me?" he whispered to her.

She glanced back at the guards and then shook her head in reply. Of course, she couldn't. It would be foolish to send Order personnel to him with the means to his freedom.

"Do you know who can?"

"N-no, sir," she softly stuttered. "I'm s-sorry, sir."

He turned his gaze back to the ceiling and let her continue with her duty. He thought about the med-droid having all sorts of sharp objects: scissors, scalpels, needles. He could use any of those to threaten the medtech to get him out of the cell. He could use her as a shield. He was sure she'd be too frightened to fight, but in all probability, she would help.

He wondered how far he would get before either of them were stunned. By his guess, they wouldn't make it past the brig's main entrance. It was a foolish plan, then, and he dismissed it. Even if he got to a hangar with a functioning ship, he didn't know how to fly a ship with only one hand. He didn't know how he would get the collar off without injuring himself. He didn't know the _Finalizer's_ position, either. They could be in Wild Space for all he knew.

He would have to bide his time until a suitable opportunity presented itself.


	25. We Are Coming Down, But We Will Never Never Never Land

He was awakened by the cell door opening again. In the doorway was a different medtech than the one from, he had to guess, yesterday. They had only two syringes in their hand, and no med-droid.

"It's time, Lord Ren," the medtech informed him.

A jolt of nervousness tightened his gut. He sat up as he asked what was in the syringes. It was mostly to distract himself. His head still didn't feel great, and his right arm was throbbing. He supposed that went with the territory of losing part of a limb. The collar around his neck seemed heavier than yesterday. And he was hungry and thirsty as hell.

"Two relaxants, sir. One's the same muscle relaxer you had last cycle. The other is prep for surgery."

He thought about refusing, but ultimately, he knew he had no choice. His mother wanted him to have a new arm, so a new arm he was going to get.

He asked how the medtech wanted him and got into position. The muscle relaxer went in his arm, but the second shot had to go in his hip. To say it was awkward to undo his trousers one-handed was an understatement. He'd had to do it last night to use the toilet, but that hadn't been in front of an audience. Luckily, he got it done before the tech could _graciously_ volunteer.

The shot went quick, but burned as though a smoldering ember had been shoved under his skin. The medtech said it wouldn't affect him until he was on the table, since the team was ready and waiting. He yanked up his trousers, zipped the fly, and stood. He wouldn't bother with the button because redoing that one-handed was nigh impossible. He figured he was changing clothes for surgery, anyway.

The walk to the med bay was a quick one, and he was kept from the gen-pop, open ward. It was understandable since there were probably injured Resistance fighters recovering, and it wouldn't boost morale to see him. Rey was most likely there as well, and he didn't want to see her. _Ever._ Unless it was to wring her kriffing neck.

He was shown to a private changing room where a fresh med gown and a plastoid bin for his clothes were waiting. The med gown covered him to mid-thigh, and he felt like his dick was going to make a surprise appearance with any movement.

He tried to pick up the bin, but he found that his left arm didn't have any strength. Now that he thought about it, his legs felt heavy. He realized the shot given in his hip was kicking in, and he left his clothes behind as he slowly, carefully left the changing room.

As he stepped out, he heard the surgery team talk as they scrubbed in about the low stock of analgesic. They could only use half-doses--if that. That bit of new information had his heart pumping even faster and his lungs barely working. He tripped back and nailed his right shoulder against the now-closed door to the changing room.

The noise had the techs perking up and rushing for him as if he'd tripped. He barked at them to leave him alone, but they kept coming with supportive hands and concerned faces. No longer was he a monster to fear--not with the damn collar on. He was just an unruly, pathetic patient.

He snapped at them and swung a wild fist, clocking one tech in the neck. The guards were called in with a PA announcement of Code Gray. He didn't even have time to stagger anywhere before he was surrounded by buckler guards and backed against the nearest bulkhead. He pushed against them while trying to protect his injured right arm from the pressure of the shields.

There were hands on him, arms locking around him, and he tried to sag out of their hold. Sagging just led to extra pressure on his joints, and he spat curses as they dragged him to the operating room. He dragged his feet and tried kicking at booted ankles, which only earned him stubbed toes.

They bodily picked him up and dropped him on the operating table. The techs swarmed around the guards and strapped him down to the table. They even caged his head, so he could only look up into the too-bright adjustable overhead lamp.

There was a call for something from one of the doctors, and then there was a sharp pinch at the fold of his elbow. Another needle. The liquid was icy and thick and made him even more sluggish, but didn't give him the reprieve of unconsciousness. No, he was awake and paralyzed and very much not numb.

He lay there and prayed for his beloved, his beautiful apprentice, the best thing to happen to him. He needed to remember her tender touch, her sweet voice. He wished he could bury his face in her hair. _Sweetheart._ He could bear this if she were next to him. She gave him strength, and she alone could see this through with him.

He imagined her whispering how much she loved him when the hot pain began. It was a live wire being pushed into his spinal column, making his hair stand on end and his muscles lock up. Or they would have if he weren't torpefied. He screamed for her, swearing he heard her yell back, and he didn't know if it was mentally or physically.

Everything was too bright and out of focus and too warm for far too long.

He felt a hand on his bare left forearm and a soft cloth dabbing at his face. He wondered if he'd cried or if he was still crying. He probably had and was. He opened his eyes to see Leia Organa hovering above him and to the left. She had such compassion in her eyes that he felt ashamed and small.

She slid her delicate, breakable hand in his, and like a weakling, he clutched at it. She seemed to be pleased by that as she dabbed at his damp neck. There was talking around him, but everything seemed to be muffled.

She looked down at him, her dark brown eyes captivating in their depth, and asked him to move his right thumb. He wanted to tell her that he didn't have a right thumb anymore _to_ move, but instinct being what it was, he tried. Apparently, he did something correct because she told him to move his other fingers. When that was done, he was instructed to make a fist and then spread his fingers.

It felt like he had his hand back, but he knew that wasn't so. His hand was still gone. The juxtaposition of dual sensations almost made him dizzy.

"They're almost done," Leia softly told him.

"Okay," he replied, and almost called her _Mom_.

She stiffened as if he had.

He must've lost consciousness shortly thereafter because he came to in a med bed. He was in a private room with the lights dimmed. The smooth sheets were tucked under his arms, and he was seated in a semi-upright position. He went to lift his right arm, but found that it was strapped to the bedframe. His left wasn't, but that was cold comfort.

He looked down to see the end of his right arm submerged in a small sealed clear cube full of bacta. He could still smell the sweet scent of the bacta, though, but the whole med bay had that undercurrent of bacta. He intuited that being bound to the bed was to keep the arm stable. He could accept that--for now.

The connector plate seemed to be integrating well into his arm. With a few more hours, he'd be ready to leave. The med bay was the least secure as far as keeping patients in; the very opposite of the brig, naturally. If he could get out of the med bay with no one seeing him, he might be able to sneak down to one of the hangars.

The collar was still a problem, but there were tools to be had outside of a First Order cruiser.

As he was debating with himself, the door to his room slid open to reveal Leia Organa. _Again._ This was, he thought, starting to become a pattern. She was alone this time, though, and had a bundle of pale fabric partially hidden by one of the voluminous sleeves of her gray coat.

She stepped in, letting the door slide shut behind her, and took few steps towards the foot of the bed. She tossed the bundle on the mattress between his feet and said, "We don't have much time. We need to get that device off your arm."

"Much time before what?"

"Before you're sent back to the brig," she replied and came around to his right side to release his arm.

"Isn't that where prisoners of war are supposed to go?" he pointed out.

She shook her head and silently indicated he should help extract his arm from the bacta cube. The cube came off with a sucking _pop_ , and she put it on the table next to the bed. He sat up fully and wiped the excess bacta off on his med gown. In the meantime, she unfolded the bundle to lay out a full set of gray scrubs, a white lab coat, a flimsy pair of slip-on shoes, and surgical cap and mask.

"Put these on and don't question me."

"Why?" he automatically questioned. He folded the sheets down and swung his legs over the side of bed. His head felt better, he noted. He was still clammy from the surgery, and he wanted a shower, but that would have to wait. _Apparently._

Organa let out a deep breath. "A member of my crew said something that no one heeded at the time, but I heard her: We shouldn't fight what we hate, but save what we love. I hate what you've done, _Kylo Ren_ , but I know Ben's still in you." She put a hand on her diaphragm, and he noticed she was wearing her wedding ring. "I still love my son and I don't want to see him sentenced to death."

"Is that why you held my hand?"

"It's why you held mine. Now get changed."

He couldn't really argue with her logic. So, he pulled the scrub pants to himself and got them on, wiggling into them and thumbing them into place around his waist. He took off the med gown and wiped again at his right arm. The fabric brushed against the plate, and he shivered at the sensation because he could feel it. He didn't linger on that revelation, but quickly changed into the top and got the slip-ons on his feet.

Organa gave the lab coat a shake and held it open for him. He ducked into it and shrugged it over his shoulders before sitting down again. She stepped in front of him and tucked the cap on his head and smoothed his hair under it. It felt like she was fussing over him as though it was the first day of school. He didn't fight her, though, he just stared at the lapel of her coat.

The last thing was the surgical mask, and he hooked the elastic loops behind his too-big ears and then covered them with the cap. He stood after, and she examined him before stepping forward and tucking the half-empty sleeve of the lab coat in its pocket.

"That's as good as we can do under the circumstances," she assessed. "Keep your right arm behind me, but look like you're walking with me--"

He cut her off, "I know how to sneak around."

"From my intel, I very much doubt that."

She hadn't changed in a decade, he thought. And he didn't know if he liked that fact or not. He glared at her as she cocked an eyebrow back. She turned away, completely unimpressed, and opened the door out into the quiet med bay passageway. He followed her out of the room, and two Resistance fighters straightened up from their mutual slump against the bulkhead.

The walk out of the med bay was uneventful, even with the added guards escorting them, and he couldn't understand it. Perhaps his mother was using the Force to keep attention off her and her companions, but he couldn't tell since he'd been _cut off_. It was like another limb or a vital organ had been taken from him, and he was slowly coming to realize how much he'd relied on it.

They walked to Hangar 2 at a fast clip. The few people they passed in the passageways hardly bothered to notice. He felt invisible for the first time in his life. He didn't know if he liked it.

The awaiting ship was a cobbled together mess of b-wing fighter and general transport with the added artillery of a R-9X cannon opposite the cockpit. He wanted to ask if it was actually space-worthy when his words died in his throat.

Because Poe Dameron was standing in front of the ship.

Along with a female Resistance fighter, but he didn't think she'd would be an issue. Dameron could be. He kept his face as neutral as possible--the surgical mask helped a great deal. However, he knew that Dameron recognized him regardless.

"My ship ready, Commander?" Organa asked.

"Yes, General," Dameron replied, his eyes darting in his direction. "Connix and myself cleaned out the room."

"Thank you, both of you. We'll regroup tomorrow."

Dameron and Connix saluted Organa and headed away from the droning ship. He watched Dameron for a second as he processed the words. They'd cleaned out his quarters--which meant they'd seen his beloved's belongings. He wondered if there'd be a report once Dameron got settled as to the nature of his quarter's contents. If that were the case, he could expect questions.

Until then, he followed the guards and Organa into the ship. He folded down a seat from the rack seating attached to the bulkhead in the transport section of the ship and settled in. He could hear Organa talking with the guard-cum-pilot as he unhooked the mask from behind his ears.

Once Organa was finished, she sat right next to him. He wanted to point out that there were plenty of seats to choose from. Just because she was his mother didn't mean she needed to hover around him as though he were a child. He looked over and down at her and remembered how petite she actually was. Even without the Force, he could definitely lift her and toss her across the ship. Not that he would, for she was getting him off the _Finalizer_ and away from his enemies.

She turned more to him and confided, "I want to talk to you about something."

He bent his neck and studied her solemn face. Apparently, she didn't need more encouragement beyond that because she went on:

"About Darth Vader, specifically."

He glanced around the transport to see only one guard, and they were diagonal from them in the hold. If they could hear, they didn't seem to be interested. Then again, he reminded himself, he wouldn't be able to tell.

"I know Luke told you a little about him. I told you about my experience with him..."

"I remember," he confirmed. He remembered that neither of them had wanted to divulge much of anything. Organa had only said that Vader had been present for her interrogation right before she'd met his uncle. In turn, Skywalker had told him Vader had given in to the dark side completely and had even murdered his old Jedi master--for whom he'd been named. Skywalker had gone on to say that Vader had wanted him at his side where they could rule the galaxy together. Obviously, Skywalker had rejected the offer, and Vader had taken his hand during the fight.

There wasn't much beyond that. Besides the run-in with Vader when Calrissian had been the baron administrator of Cloud City on Bespin. Along with Vader's order for carbonite-freeze imprisonment of Han Solo, not much else had been discussed. Snoke had filled in the gaps where his family had been too frightened to venture.

Organa added, "But I don't think either of us told you how Darth Vader died."

"He died on the second Death Star, defending the Empire." _From his own son._

"No, Ben, no, he didn't."

"What do you mean?"

"He _did_ die on the Death Star, that's true. But... But he died defending your uncle, _his son_."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying Darth Vader died when he threw the emperor into the reactor. He died as Anakin Skywalker."

"You lie." Snoke had told him that Luke Skywalker had gotten lucky when he killed the emperor's enforcer that day. The emperor--while being a powerful Sith--had been too reliant on his apprentice for too many years. That reliance had weakened him.

"Why would I lie?" she demanded. "Telling you this will not get you on my side. If anything, it will estrange us further."

"Then why tell me at all?"

"Because you deserve to know. We should've told you years ago."

"It changes nothing."

"Maybe, but I want you to know the whole story." She paused and reached out as if to put a hand on his intact forearm, but hesitated and pulled back. "Luke brought Anakin's body back to Endor and cremated him in a Jedi's funeral." Her voice dropped to a murmur, "I know you had Vader's helmet. I can see now what Snoke had pushed on you, but Ben, you don't need to be Vader to be stron--"

_"Don't,"_ he bit out, stopping her. "No more."

For once, she relented. They sat there in silence. He stared across the hold at nothing. How dare she presume she knew what Snoke had seen in him. It didn't matter how his grandfather had died. It meant nothing. It erased nothing. One deed did nothing to negate a lifetime. He wanted to shoot down Organa's logic by telling her about his apprentice's vision-battle with Darth Vader.

Vader existed, to this day. He may have gotten a Jedi's funeral, but he was no pure, repressed Jedi. So what, he saved his son. He shouldn't even _have_ a son.

The pilot announced they were coming out of lightspeed. The ship shimmied as it slowed. He felt the swoop and then drag as the ship entered atmo. The warmth was the first thing he noticed about the planet. It wasn't muggy, but it wasn't like the cool, recycled air of a Star Destroyer. The air was alive here.

The pilot landed and opened the main hatch which folded down into the loading ramp. He stood and turned to see it was early evening planetside. The double moons were setting and reflecting quite the light upon the partially buried hangar which the ship was docked in front of.

Organa stepped around him and led the way into the hangar. They went down a set of stone stairs carved into the bedrock. The stairwell and walls were bound by tree-roots. It was dim and cool and moist down this far underground. The main space of the hangar was lined with comm benches, portable relays, and holo-projection tables. It felt like he'd been dropped twenty years in the past.

They bypassed all that, though, and headed down a passageway to the right. As he walked by one of the cubicles carved into the stone walls, it became apparent they were in the med corridor of the hangar. It was foolish to put him up in the med ward instead of the brig, he thought. He kept that to himself until the thought evaporated at the sight of an electric barrier at the mouth of one of the cubicles.

One of the guards deactivated the barrier while the other nudged him forward. He looked to Organa to see her resigned. As if it wasn't her decision. As if this wasn't right where she wanted him.

"It's only temporary," she attempted to reassure him.

"Hypocrite," he snarled as he tripped into the cell.

"This keeps you in and anyone else out."

The electric barrier purred back to life, and he turned to come up to its buzzing orange blockade. He wanted to scream at being confined. He wanted to thrash until he destroyed everything in the cell with him. Organa looked up at him as if she knew and then stepped back.

"Dinner's in an hour," she said before walking away.


	26. If I Could Stop Time, I Would Take Your Hand; I Missed You So Bad

He had been informed during dinner that the _grand_ kingdom of Mol'leaj would host him for the duration. His protests had fallen on deaf ears. Organa had told him he couldn't stay on D'Qar forever since she couldn't dedicate the manpower and resources to keeping him safe and alive.

He hadn't been able to find the right words to explain the situation--the past encounter. However, he had told her that he was familiar with King Solculvis and that he wouldn't wear the collar on Mol'leaj. He had said the king was desperate for power--and _anyone_ who had it. He had told her not to trust Solculvis.

"Be that as it may, you will hide there until I can settle a few things," Organa had stated as she applied a thin layer of bacta to his skin next to the connector plate.

He yanked his arm out of her hold and shot to his feet. "I am not your pawn! You can't just move me around the galaxy like it's a chessboard!" he had bellowed as the whole room tensed.

She'd stayed seated and held up a hand for the guards to back away. "Do you have a better plan? Is there anyone who'd take you in?"

With his Knights gone, possibly dead, there weren't many options. He didn't even know if his apprentice had survived the attack. He'd snatched the roll of gauze from the table and stomped back to this cell. The barrier had been deactivated to let him out for dinner and no one had turned it back on. He had stood there for a second before realizing that no one was expecting him to run.

He'd thrown the gauze away, turned on his heel, and had made a break for the stairwell. Before he even put one foot on a tread, he had been yanked back by the lab coat he still wore. He tried to wiggle out of the coat, but it hardly mattered. A smaller body latched onto his back and an arm went around his neck, pressing the collar into his windpipe. He'd struggled, swinging his left fist back, and heard the coat tear.

The same guard had pressed their thumb right between his neck and collarbone. He'd gasped at the intense pressure and curled forward to protect his front and right arm as he took hold of the arms at his neck with his left. Someone had then kicked at the back of his knee, and he'd crumpled like a piece of paper.

He'd been unceremoniously dumped back in his cell--with the electric barrier turned on. He had lain there, trying to catch his breath, and wondered if he were truly this weak without the Force. He needed to get stronger to get off D'Qar before being sent to Mol'leaj.

He yanked off the torn lab coat and threw it on top of the discarded cap and surgical mask at the foot of the bed. Between the lab coat and failed escape attempt, the bacta that Organa had applied was almost gone. He looked at the abrupt ending of his right arm to see that it was fine--if a little irritated. He figured a good night's rest would help.

He got off the cool floor and sat on the cot. He tried to center himself and reach into the Force. He needed to know if his apprentice was alive. He hadn't felt her death. He probably wouldn't be alive if she'd died. Somehow, that was reassuring. He would rather be dead with her than alive without ever feeling her touch or hearing her voice again.

But if she were alive, he would find her. He would find a way to tear the galaxy apart to get to her.

Their bond, usually so present in his mind, was numb. It wasn't gone, per se, but it wasn't a string to pluck to understand her internal world. He breathed deep and wished to feel its thrumming. He told himself all things were possible in the Force, and even with the collar, it was with him.

Beyond the barrier, someone cleared their throat and it felt too pointed to ignore. He opened his eyes and looked over to see Organa once more. She looked exasperated like he'd left muddy footprints in the foyer again.

"Going to try to run again?" she asked as she whipped a white hand towel over her shoulder.

"No guarantees."

Her expression changed to some unreadable mixture, and she held up a fresh roll of gauze and an unopened bacta pod. "I would like to get some bacta on that arm before lights-out."

He held up his right arm. "Do your worst."

She turned off the barrier and left it off as she sat next to him. He considered running again, but he knew he'd end up right back in the cell. Instead, he held out what was left of his right arm for Organa to examine.

She assessed it and told him no damage had been done. The bacta she was going to apply would probably be the last treatment he'd need, she told him. She gave him the roll of gauze to hold and set everything up the way she wanted.

"When am I leaving for Mol'leaj?" he asked as she opened the bacta pod.

"Day after tomorrow. I'm hoping in the early half of the cycle, but that's up to transport schedules."

He nodded more to himself. He didn't have long to either think of a plan to escape before heading to Mol'leaj or to figure how he was going to make Solculvis' life a nightmare. Maybe he could seduce his queen, Mithea Nor. He hated the thought of being unfaithful to his beloved, but he knew she would understand the circumstances. His soul would always be hers, even if he had to stick his dick in Mithea.

Organa was working on the underside of his arm as she asked, "Do you ever think of your father?"

He couldn't answer as he stared at the stone wall across from him. It seemed his lungs had seized in his chest.

She went on: "He loved you, you know."

"I know," he croaked. And it had torn him apart. He could admit that now, sitting beside his mother. He knew Snoke had sensed his painful ambivalence. It had made him weak to oscillate between missing/loving his family and wanting revenge against them. When he'd felt Solo pass right before he hit the bright core of Starkiller, he had expected to feel centered, resolute, more focused than ever.

Instead, it had cut him to the bone. It had left him--

He cut the thought down because he _did not_ want to think about it.

"I asked him to bring you home," Organa commented as she wiped the bacta from her fingers.

"He told me you missed me."

"He missed you, too. All these years, he thought about you."

He'd always heard that if something sounded too good to be true, it usually wasn't. They hadn't really missed him. They had been relieved to have someone else responsible for him. He had always been too much.

He argued, "Then he shouldn't have run away all the time."

"That's on me. He tried _so_ hard, and I didn't..."

"He was weak." He didn't know who he was trying to convince anymore. "He never could stick around."

"He wanted to," she divulged as she took the roll of gauze from him and began wrapping his bacta-smeared stump of an arm. "Didn't you feel it?"

"No. All he ever did was scurry away."

"Ben--"

_"No,"_ he interrupted. "Don't make excuses for him."

She remained undeterred as she wrapped his arm where metal met flesh. "He never felt good enough, I see that now, and I pushed him."

_Into my path._ "And I killed him."

It had been to make him stronger. Snoke had said it would make him stronger. He had to prove himself to Snoke because he kept failing in the most fundamental way. He had to carve away that which compromised him.

When that nameless star had disappeared from the sky above Starkiller, it felt like a sign. The darkness was waiting--always there before the light. It had been waiting for him, or he thought it had, when he drove his lightsaber through Han Solo's chest.

They had been sitting in silence for too long, he realized. His arm was bandaged, and she didn't need to be seated next to him like it was a funeral. He wondered who exactly they were mourning.

He whispered, "I can't come back." He thought of looking deep into his father's eyes to see the ultimate betrayal. Solo had offered anything to help, anything he could give, and he, like a ravenous fiend, had taken everything. "I'm not your son."

In the end, it had brought him nothing. Snoke's training had been built upon carefully crafted lies. Han Solo was dead for nothing. He was nothing but a patricidal moron who had believed in nothing but power.

Now look what he had: no power, no allies, no lover, no family, no master.

He had nothing. _He was nothing._

"Not to me," Organa murmured.

He finally looked at her and felt the hot trail of tears spill down his clammy cheeks. She was hardly dry-eyed as she reached out to hold his face. He almost wanted to back away from her touch, but he didn't know why he wanted to, so he remained still.

Her small hands felt like they could crush him--not because of their inherent strength or the power behind them, but because she could destroy him by recoiling. Instead, her thumbs stroked his damp cheeks as she stared into his eyes. Maybe she would kill him this way: with a gentle touch while she made him feel his own heart crack in two.

"I know it was Snoke," she gently told him.

He barely shook his head, knowing she meant the murder of Han Solo. "No, it was me. My decision." His voice broke, and he swallowed around the lump in his throat. "I did it all on my own."

There was a pitying look on her face that he detested. "Ben, no, he _groomed_ you. Right from the beginning. Don't you see that?"

"I let him in." He pulled away and wiped under an eye. "Stupid," he muttered to himself.

"You were a _child_. Snoke saw in you everything any Jedi would want." She folded the towel over on her lap and let her hand rest on it. She murmured, "I'm glad you destroyed him before he could crush you."

He wanted to insist that Snoke had already done that years before. Snoke had him reassemble himself into what was needed regardless of its original source. It didn't matter who Ben Solo really had been, only that he had the power of Skywalkers behind him. What was needed was Kylo Ren fulfilling that destiny.

"I think you should go," he said.

"For tonight," she agreed. "We'll continue this later."

He was curious if that was a promise or a threat. However, he said nothing as she gathered the used med supplies, the ripped lab coat, and the discarded surgical cap and mask. He watched her step out of the cell and turn the electric barrier on again.

"Good night, Ben," she said.

"Good night," he returned and waited until she was out of sight before collapsing sideways on the cot. The light in his cell went off ten minutes later.

-

The next morning was downright pedestrian. Organa was off-world, but no one offered an explanation. He was given a modest breakfast of potable water and field rations. After a quick pass-by the refresher, where he took off the gauze from last night, he was parked back in his cell.

It gave him a lot of time to think--something he didn't think was wise. But no one asked him.

He had no plan to get away from D'Qar, though--even after an hour of thinking on it. Security was at a minimum, true, but they kept him within their sights any time he was out of his cell. He didn't relish being shot and he certainly didn't want to have to seek medical treatment as part of his getaway plan. That meant he'd have to wait until he was on Mol'leaj to try something.

There he'd get information on what had happened to the First Order, to any survivors, and if his apprentice and Knights were still at large. Organa hadn't mentioned any of them, but he hadn't asked either. He couldn't let on how anxious he was to see them.

He shouldn't have let her leave the hangar, he thought, or left her side, or not sent her up to Hux during the invasion. Or picked her up on Jakku at all. He had to be honest with himself, she would probably be fine right now if he'd left her on the outskirts of Tuanul. Somehow, that felt naive--wishful thinking.

Because it had to happen the way it did.

He just hoped he hadn't ruined her life. He'd ruined so many things-- _people_. Perhaps he'd given her all the tools she needed to live free. He hoped she lived free. He hoped she was _alive_. He hoped she remembered him fondly. He really had tried with her.

He lay down and pillowed his head on his left arm. He mentally called out to her--not to summon her, but to tell her he missed her, he wanted her to remember him. He wanted to call her _sweetheart_ and kiss her one more time.

He didn't know when he fell asleep, but he was awakened by the electric barrier cutting off. He looked out into the passageway to see Poe Dameron standing there. As he sat up, Dameron tossed him a ration bar and bottle of water. He caught the bottle of water and let the ration bar hit his thigh.

"Thanks," he offered and pivoted on the cot to get one leg on the floor.

Dameron was silent for a few seconds before spitting out: "I don't understand why she's bothering with you."

"Probably something to do with guilt."

"I should let you run, so you can slither under a rock and hide until you rot."

Or Dameron wanted the pleasure of hunting him down himself. Without the infernal collar around his neck, he was sure he could take Dameron in a dogfight. Maybe even with it--he was decent pilot after all.

"Maybe you should, but I certainly can't force you to with this on." He thumbed at the collar with a sigh and decided to throw Dameron a bone. "You know, if it's any consolation, you were difficult to break."

"It isn't. You _tortured_ me. You hurt my friends."

"I've hurt a lot of your friends," he automatically returned. "You'll have to be more specific."

Dameron snorted and shook his head. "Whatever, sleemo. I can't wait 'til we drop your ass on Mol'leaj."

"Fair enough," he said because there was no good reply to that. He got his other foot on the floor to squeeze the bottle between his thighs to steady it so he could twist it open one-handed.

"I'll be back in an hour."

Dameron left after activating the barrier again, leaving him to eat in peace. He realized he shouldn't have antagonized Dameron because he probably was tempted to let him go. In all probability though, Dameron would follow Organa's orders-- _whatever those were_. He very much doubted that Organa wanted him to "escape" while she was away.

The time went by, and he tried not to think about what his mother had said last night. Because if what she had said was true, that meant he was a victim, and he would _never_ be the victim in his own life. He had taken control of the narrative years ago by finally seeing what the Jedi really were. Skywalker had shown him all he needed to know about the Jedi in one night. Before that, he had read enough to see where the Jedi's meddling ways had ruined every single ruling government.

Snoke had guided him, yes, but he alone had opened the door, as it were. Perhaps Snoke's training had been as true as Skywalker's, but he had rejected them both in the end, hadn't he? He would forge a new path. He felt that his Knights, his apprentice, were the key. Rey would be left behind to flounder with whatever teachings Skywalker had deigned to share.

He sat sideways on the cot and rested his back against the cool stone. He dozed there until he heard the faint binary beeping of a droid. It was probably Dameron's droid--the same one which had eluded him on Jakku--seeing as Dameron dragged that BB-unit everywhere with him.

He vaguely wished it would shut down for once. His desire came true soon enough, and the passageway outside his cell was quiet once more. He took a deep breath and silently debated about lying down to sleep. He wanted to be well rested for Mol'leaj, but he didn't want to throw off his body clock.

Someone approached the electric barrier, and he looked up to see who was there to scorn him now. However, the face across the orange field of electricity didn't make any sense. He wondered if the ration bar he'd had earlier was spoiled, but there was no way he wouldn't have noticed some ill-effects by now. He blinked again and wished he could reach out with the Force to feel if it was real.

Because his beloved was standing beyond the barrier and smiling at him.

"What are you doing here?" He got off the cot, hoping against hope that she wasn't a delusion, and told her he'd heard her scream. He'd feared she was dead. He hadn't known at the time if it had been a drug-induced hallucination or if he had tapped into the Force. He hadn't wanted to think about it too much.

She studied him, and her gaze seemed fixated on his right arm. When she looked back up at him, her eyes were glassy with tears. "We need to get out of here."

He got as close as he dared to the barrier and told her she needed to go. "They know about you. They have your things."

His apprentice disregarded his statement to ask if he knew where he was being sent. He nodded, and she spit out a heartfelt _fuck_. He agreed that pretty much summed up the situation.

"Stand back," she advised and got out Darksaber.

He stepped away--despite disagreeing with her being here--as she drove the black lightsaber into one side of the barrier generator attached to the cubicle's wall. With one side ruined, the connection fizzled out to nothing but metalized smoke. And then they were face-to-face. She was as beautiful as he remembered.

While he was overjoyed to see her, he knew she shouldn't be on D'Qar with him. If anyone found her, if Solculvis learned of her survival, he was sure she'd be sent to Mol'leaj with him. That would be worse than any labor camp.

Before he could order her to leave, she asked where his lightsaber was. He told her it had been destroyed and was about to say more when he heard fast footsteps heading their way. She heard them too and put her free hand on his chest to push him back. Her hand felt like the most loving brand against him, and he put his left over hers to feel her soft skin.

She took his hand in hers and squeezed it before releasing him. She turned to the passageway and got out her other lightsaber. When Dameron and an unfamiliar officer blocked the way, she ignited the magenta blade. The officer shot a stun ring at them, but it was easily dodged.

His apprentice demanded they be let go, but the officer countered that the Resistance had an agreement with the Mol'leaj System. It seemed like the wrong thing to say because she told them to shove their agreement up their collective asses. She told them Solculvis had tried to buy her like she was chattel.

Of course, the officer didn't believe her, citing that Queen Mithea would never do such a thing. She dismissed him and pleaded her case to Dameron. She explained that when the three of them were last together, in Tuanul, that her powers had been awakened.

Dameron accused him of kidnapping her. While that was true, from a certain point of view, there had been larger things at work. And yes, at first she had fought him. However, she had come around. He lately liked to think that he had rescued her from the hostile environment of Jakku.

His apprentice corrected Dameron by stating that he had trained her. He tacked on that she was powerful. He didn't know if that was a smart thing to offer. They could see that as a threat and try to subdue her again. He kept his body loose, so he could grab her around the waist and shield her if they tried to fire upon them again.

Nevertheless, she went on to say that Solculvis and Mithea had tried to buy her from Hux--that they wanted her and him.

The officer scoffed. "For what purpose?"

She replied that they wanted a "mated" Jedi pair. Dameron's eyes got as big as a rodian's as he echoed mated. His blaster lowered as he looked between them.

"Mated," Dameron said. "As in _you_ and _him_...?"

Her shoulders rolled back as she proclaimed him as hers. He wanted to kiss her for it.

Dameron confirmed that the "lady stuff" gathered from his room was hers. He had a brief flood of amusement that Dameron had thought that he wore peignoirs and had a need for menstrual products. While he wouldn't mind wearing flowing silks and lace, he was not blessed with being able to grow another human within his body.

Dameron cursed and told the officer that Organa was not going to be pleased. His apprentice told them that Organa didn't have to know after she turned her lightsabers off.

"Just let us go," she offered. "You'll never have to see either of us again."

From the side, just out of his line of sight, came his mother's voice denying that to be a viable option. Organa stepped around her officers and right into the cell with them. Organa looked over his apprentice and stated that she must be the one he'd been yelling for. She didn't say whether it was mental or not, and it wasn't the time to ask, but apparently, his mother had heard him call for his beloved.

Of course, that meant that Organa was putting two and two together. And that didn't always add up to good things for him. He pulled his apprentice back by her belt and shielded her with his body. She made a startled sound and pressed against his left arm as if to protest as he told Organa that she could ship him off to Mol'leaj, but not his apprentice.

Naturally, his apprentice cut him off with a vehement _no_. "You can't be sent there!" she ranted at his back and then inched her away around his arm. To Organa, she implored, "You can't send him there, your highness! They'll use him to make their own Jedi army."

Organa asked for proof, but of course, there was none. His apprentice admitted that, but said she had first-hand experience with Solculvis. Dameron added to her case by stating that his droid reported she had told it the same. So, when he'd heard that BB-unit's friendly chirping before, it had been with her. He had to remind himself the droid had been in Tuanul, and she had probably kept it company during the hand-off.

Organa bid them all to follow her and left the cell. Dameron and the officer didn't second-guess as they marched after her. His apprentice met his eyes as she hooked her lightsabers back on her belt. Something passed over her face--a yearning, almost regretful. As disciplined as she was, she didn't indulge in putting voice to it and stepped away from him to follow Organa.

He trailed after her like a gray shadow. All his scheming and worry had been for nothing, he realized as he stopped next to her at the main, and actively recording, comm table. It was overwhelming to be next to her again when he had thought the probability of seeing her was nil.

Organa had prompted her to tell her story, and his apprentice was divulging what had transpired with King Solculvis. He could barely concentrate on her words with the way her presence seemed to push all his thoughts aside. All he could hear was the sweet sound of her voice. He so badly wanted to reach out with the only hand he had left to hold hers.

Organa directed a question at him, asking if what his apprentice said was true. He dumbly nodded and said, "Yes."

In reply, Organa turned off the comm table and ordered the crate of their things to be brought out. It came to him that she was going to _let them go_. She had actually heard him yesterday and she was taking his apprentice seriously.

Dameron was ordered to leave them, and he knew what that meant: chastisement. He felt it coming like the first stormy rumbles of thunder, and suddenly, he was a kid all over again.

She reprimanded them by saying they could've left the Order at any time after Snoke had been destroyed. She pointed out that they had killed good people and supported a tyrant and generally terrorized the galaxy. She looked at him and announced that one of his Knights had killed his uncle.

He wanted to yell back that he knew all that, that he had been there when Kin Al had died because of him, that he had seen Skywalker surrender to the Force. He hated that she said it for his apprentice's benefit. His apprentice gaped up at him with a gasp, but he refused to walk into Leia Organa's guilt-tripping.

Organa went on to say the only good thing coming out of the confrontation-- _besides the destruction of the First Order_ \--was that the galaxy was now prepared for a new type of government: a centralized organization which only promoted intergalactic cooperation between self-governing planetary systems. He guessed it was better than a stupid fucking republic, because that type of government had failed _twice_ now.

He knew Hux would be disgusted by the lack of dominating leadership.

Organa started in on the relationship he had with his apprentice, but was interrupted by the delivery of the crate. She glanced at it and then at them before ordering:

"You two are going to make this right. Or at least worth it."

His apprentice asked how, and he dreaded the answer. And he was right to when Organa brought up Rey. Organa drew their attention to the fact that Rey was without a master or full knowledge of her abilities and the Jedi techniques. It almost sound like she wanted them to train Rey, and he refused.

"I will not be her teacher."

Organa's eyes bored into his. "Damn right, you won't. I don't want you anywhere near her--either of you."

That suited him just fine.

However, Organa went on: "You two are going to find the rest of the Jedi teachings and writings to help her."

That was a herculean task. With the fall of the Jedi at the end of the Clone Wars, their accumulation of knowledge had been lost. He began his protest, pointing out Emperor Palpatine had destroyed the Jedi library, but Organa interrupted him by stating with certainty that the emperor hadn't eradicated everything.

She said, "Luke had found a lot of it, but since you never completed your training with him, you never got to see the holocron. There must be more information secreted away amongst the Jedi temples."

"Or the Sith," he added.

Organa agreed with a nod and told them that Lando Calrissian had a copy of Skywalker's holocron. She wanted them to start there. He wanted to refuse wholeheartedly at that. Calrissian would never help him. If anything, Calrissian would shoot him on sight because of what he'd done to Han Solo.

And to Luke Skywalker years ago.

His mother stepped away to handle some business or other. He was left feeling incompetent and mentally reeling while his apprentice rooted through their crate. He didn't know what she could possibly be looking for until she straightened up and tucked the tin of Ho'Din pills under her top. He watched her swallow and had to assume she'd taken one.

He offered his left hand and she took it, pushing her fingers between his. She reached up to cradle his cheek, and something unfurled inside him. While he couldn't feel her through the Force, her touch was enough to settle his fluttering heart.

"I thought you only had one uncle," she half-asked.

He explained that Calrissian was his father's best friend. He could see that his apprentice wanted to know more, but Organa came back just in time to hear him and interrupted them by saying that she hadn't told Calrissian what he'd done.

"Just in case you were concerned," she elaborated. "I'll leave that up to you to break the news."

He let go of his apprentice's hand as he turned and thanked Organa for her discretion. She had that look in her eyes like when he'd told her to do her worst last night.

"Dammit, Ben, you're supposed to say 'thanks, Mom.'"

He hadn't known she wanted him to call her that. He thought he'd ruined it or that he had no right to use the term. He couldn't meet her eyes as he thanked her. He couldn't bear to watch her reaction to his calling her _Mom_.

His mother said something, but he knew it wasn't directed at him. But then she ordered him to come closer and commented she couldn't reach his collar. She asked him when he'd gotten so tall.

He didn't know how to answer, so he bent so she could release him. The collar beeped and popped open. And the universe instantly expanded around him. All that which had been kept from him pushed its way into his mind. He felt Kin Al's absence-- _and Baltek's_. It was different than what it used to be, and he had to sort through his jumbled thoughts to realize it was because Snoke wasn't there.

He reached up to touch his neck and registered he was using his right. He switched hands and massaged his neck. The Force was in his touch and all around him like gossamer strands holding everything together.

His apprentice put a hand on his shoulder and he looked up to realize he had dropped to his knees. She asked if he was okay, and again, he didn't know how to answer. Her presence was thrumming in his mind, humming like a familiar tune. She felt so warm, _so good_ , all he could do was smile like an idiot at her.

She smiled back and nodded because she was feeling the same thing. She wet her lips and swooped down to kiss him. It wasn't perfect, but it was flawless.

When she broke the kiss, he stared deep into her beautiful eyes. He finally answered her question:

"I am now."


	27. Go Forth and Have No Fear; Come Close and Lend An Ear

He was finally alone with his beloved. They were in the ship--the same one that had gotten him off the _Finalizer_ \--that his mother had actually given them and currently headed for Sacorria, where his uncle and his family lived. But for now, they were alone.

"It shouldn't be long," he said as he came out of the cockpit after jumping to lightspeed and sending a brief comm to Yideth. "Sacorria's a Core world."

She perked up at that. "Is it like Coruscant?"

"No, it's quiet--these days. Mostly forests and plains."

That didn't seem to disappoint her, but she didn't reply except for a small nod. He stared at her, drinking in the reality that they were together again. She looked so good, standing in front of him in her battle gear. He felt sloppy when he realized she was studying him right back.

He asked for an extra hair tie, and it seemed to throw her. She blinked and changed gears from what she had been about to say. He hadn't meant to interrupt her, but she told him she thought she had extras and went to look in their crate all the same. He found himself gravitated towards her and watched her hunched back as she foraged around in their things.

After a little digging, she asked how many ties he wanted. He told her just one and plucked it from her hand. He had to practically install himself in the minuscule refresher. He looked at himself in the mirror, which was hardly bigger than his hand, and smoothed his dirty hair back away from his face. He tried to use the Force to gather his hair, but found that it was too difficult to concentrate on something he couldn't see and had never seen outside of reflection.

He almost lost the tie twice before admitting he couldn't secure his own hair.

"I'll do it. Come out and sit," she offered.

He folded down one of the rack seats, plopped down sideways on it, and held out the hair tie for her. She didn't take it immediately, but finger-combed his lank hair back. Her touch was gentle, and she worked out any snags with hardly a tug. He wanted to apologize for the state of his body, but she didn't seem to mind as she kept going long after it was necessary.

It was hypnotic--the feel of her nimble fingers in his hair and knowing that she was with him. Eventually, she gathered the top half of his hair and wound the elastic tie around the tail. He thought she would back away, but she didn't. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek.

He felt himself smiling, and slid his left hand into her sleeve to feel her skin and keep her in place. She let out a soft pleased sound and kissed his jaw. He closed his eyes, his gut tightening, as she moved her way back towards his ear. He almost got lost in it, forgetting that the trip wasn't a long one and that they didn't have much time.

"Stop," he murmured.

She released a pouty sigh and rested her chin on his shoulder. He tried to explain himself by thinking at her that he didn't want-- To hurt her feelings? Definitely. To stop? True, nonetheless, but it was impractical. 'You don't understand,' he thought. 'I just need--' _You. Time. My damn right arm back._

"Fuck," he spat.

Her hold briefly tightened around him while she said it was okay if he didn't want to. She would give him space, and began to draw away. That was almost the opposite of what he wanted. He pulled her back against him and told her he wanted her. Stars, did he want her. He wanted them, and sex, and her touch. However, he knew if they started, it would go on until they had bruises from fucking in the ship. And he didn't want that. He wanted a bed and soft sheets--somewhere he could take his time.

"You won't want to stop," she summed up.

He confessed to missing her so much. She pressed herself against his back as much as she could, given their positions and told him she'd missed him, too. She called him sweetheart, and his breath caught somewhere between his lungs and voice box.

He turned a little in her hold to look at her. "You heard me."

She grinned. "I heard that."

The proximity alert interrupted their conversation, and he went to the cockpit to pilot them down to the main dock in Dorthus Tal City. The dockmaster opened the comm channel and ordered him to land on platform DT5. He requested speeder transport, and the dockmaster confirmed a taxi would meet them.

It was late morning, but the sun was hidden behind a wash of white clouds. He hadn't visited Sacorria since he was a kid, but the city was the same. The urban center was the hub of a wheel of wide speeder lanes heading out onto the plains. The lack of direct sun hardly muted the vivid fall colors of the trees curtaining the dock platform.

He landed where directed and then opened the ramp as he went through shut down procedures. He found that piloting the ship one-handed wasn't as bad as he feared. He wouldn't want to pull any fancy stunts, but he could manage the transport just fine.

He came out of the cockpit and stood at the hatch to watch a speeder heading towards them. As the driver parked, he pushed the crate across the hold and down the ramp. There were niceties exchanged while the driver loaded the crate into the back of the vehicle. His beloved got into the backseat of the taxi and let him sort out all the practical business.

After he closed up the ship, he told the driver where they wanted to go and that he wanted to pay for docking by the day. Luckily, his mother had given him an e-credit chip tied to her abundant accounts to fund the expedition. So, he pulled the necklace that the chip was strung on from under his top and paid the day's docking fee and transport service.

When the business was sorted, he got in the backseat beside her and pulled her to him with the Force. She didn't seem to mind him manhandling her and putting an arm around her shoulders. He belatedly realized he had draped his right arm on her shoulder. He wanted to trade spots with her, but it was too late for that.

He watched the scenery pass by and tried not to think too much on how much of a loser he had become. He had failed his apprentice. A desert-rat novice had taken his hand. His mother had had to smuggle him off his own ship and hide him away from the slavering hoard who, he was certain, would be howling for vengeance in less than a week. And then, his apprentice, whom he was supposed to protect, had had to rescue him. He was so stupid and weak.

So much for not thinking, he blandly thought.

A tentative touch to the plate at the end of his arm knocked him out of his thoughts. His beloved was gently stroking the metal--not out of curiosity, but with affection. She didn't seem to care what the plate implied. Her touch sent pleasant shivers through his body--even when her fingertips glanced off the nerve interfaces.

They hadn't traveled that far outside the city before the taxi took an offramp and slowed down. They breezed through a mixed forest, a riot of colorful leaves confettied the speeder until they swooped out of the forest and down a gentle hill. He could see the Calrissian hacienda just up ahead and he attempted to keep his apprehension a bay.

He figured his mother had commed ahead to warn them, but that didn't mean they'd want him under their roof. Maybe it had been foolish to haul their crate with them. He didn't know if they would allow him and his beloved to stay.

The speeder turned onto the driveway and settled at the front door. As if on cue, the double doors to the house opened and Aunt Tendra stepped out into the late morning. She was as lovely as he remembered with her honeyed hair and tan skin. There were gray streaks in her hair now and they gilded her in silver.

The speeder door hissed open beside him, and Tendra immediately approached with a smile on her face. "Ben!" she exclaimed, and she looked over at his apprentice. "And who's this?"

He slid out of the speeder, trying to keep his right arm inconspicuous at his side, and introduced his beloved to Tendra. Tendra greeted her, took her hand, and said what a sight his beloved was. He silently agreed.

The driver brought their crate to them and told them he'd be available for pick-up. They thanked him, and the driver went on his way with little fuss.

Tendra turned to him, a motherly look on her face, and said that Leia had told her he was back with them. He didn't know if that was necessarily true, but he replied he wasn't with the First Order anymore. Tendra turned to his apprentice and asked if she were. She bluntly answered that she never had been.

It seemed that earned her Tendra's full approval. "Smart girl," she announced. "Well, come in, have a bite to eat, get settled." She turned towards the house and raised an arm to show them inside. "Lando and Chance are on Coruscant until tomorrow."

Somehow, that made everything easier. He relaxed a little, lifted the crate with the Force, and walked it in. As the doors slid shut behind them, he let the house embrace him. It hadn't changed in the fifteen or so years since he'd last experienced it. Some of the furnishing had changed, of course, but there was a tranquility that seemed to permeate the home. As he deposited the crate at the edge of the living room, he wondered if they'd kept the quote he had written out and framed for them as an anniversary present.

They followed Tendra into the remodeled kitchen and were ordered to sit at the island bar. Ever the purist, Tendra had made a stew from scratch instead of using food pellets in an autochef. She dished them out a bowl apiece of stew, putting the food on reheat as she brought them each a glass of ice water.

The stew was great--a spicy mix with roba, chiles, and potatoes. He found himself eating slower than usual because of his non-dominant hand. That didn't seem much of an issue, but it was a reminder that he needed to get a mechno-arm ASAP.

Tendra indulged them with a dessert of jade rose marshmallows--obviously, a gift from Lando from one of his trips to Coruscant. While they were good, and he did like them, he liked his beloved's reaction to them more. She felt delighted, like a kid with their nameday cake.

She looked over at him, and he noticed a little dusting of powdered sugar on her chin. He reached out and thumbed the sugar off her face. Her eyes went a little wide--so innocent and enchanting. If they were alone, he would've leaned forward to kiss her.

Across the island, Tendra cleared her throat and suggested they'd probably want to rest now. He bent his head and asked her to excuse them. Tendra was having none of it, though, and waved away his apology.

"I know love when I see it," she stated as she cleared away the dirty dishes. Over her shoulder she teased, "You two can set up in the south wing--seeing as you'll want privacy."

He almost expected her to wink with the euphemism. Nevertheless, he was grateful. He wasn't sure either of them could be quiet when it came to sex--especially now. He had been craving his apprentice for days.

Tendra led them to the farthest bedroom in the south wing. It had pale walls--like the rest of the house--and dark beams at the ceiling. The floor was blanketed in thick cream-colored carpet. A large bed, draped in pale linens with a one long roll pillow in red tucked against the regular pillows, was centered in the room. The tall, carved-wood headboard with built-in nightstands made a pseudo-half-wall between the bed and the back of the room, where the large closet and bathroom were. A couple yards away from the foot of the bed were wide glass doors looking out over the rolling hills.

He didn't remember the guest rooms looking so nice when he was a kid. Then again, he hadn't really cared about details when he'd gotten to see his Uncle Lando. He put the crate in the closet as Tendra showed his beloved the minutiae of the room. When she was finished, they both thanked her.

"It's my pleasure," Tendra replied with a wink he knew she'd been holding back before stepping into the corridor.

The door slid shut behind Tendra, and he locked it. As he turned to his beloved, she stated that they were alone at last. Yes, they were alone, and nothing would keep him from her now. He stared at her lips as he crowded her against the nearest wall and pushed his hips against her front. He could feel the soft mounds of her breasts against his chest. His cock was half-hard, starting to strain against his scrub pants, and the delicious pressure made him want to rut against her until he came in a wet mess between them.

Her eyes danced over his face, her breathing picking up, and he didn't know if she were thinking of something to say. He was too jittery to read her. Then she put her hands on his sides, and he felt himself relaxing into her touch. His cock pulsed between his legs, and he leaned his right elbow on the wall to hunch over her.

She arched against him, pushing herself up. He tilted her face for that ideal angle, keeping his hand under her jaw, and finally got his mouth on her. Her sweet lips were perfect against his, and her tongue tasted like marshmallow. He couldn't get enough and couldn't even bear to break the kiss.

He let his hand slide down her torso, between the valley of her breasts, to her waist. He tugged at the knot in her belt until it came loose. Her stiff outer-robe hardly parted when unfastened, and he commented against her kiss-swollen lips that she wore so many layers.

She beamed up at him while her hands glided up his sides, over his chest, and behind his neck.

"It was your design," she pointed out.

He told her it had been to protect her, and she replied that she didn't need that right now.

He agreed, "Not with me." _Never with him._

He parted the layers of her robes and traced the waistband of her leggings around to the small of her back. The smooth skin right above the fabric was so warm--and something he feared he would never touch again. He let his hand span over the curve of her lower back.

"Don't stop," she whispered.

He wanted to promise he'd never stop, but desire stole his words. He kissed her again and smoothed a hand over her ass. He pulled at the back of her thigh, silently telling her to wrap it around his waist.

She hopped up and all but climbed on him. Her body was a welcomed weight in his arms, and she hugged him with legs and arms. He carried her to the bed and eased her down onto its generous expanse, settling on his knees between her thighs.

She was a dark masterpiece against the pale blankets.

He moved aside one side of her outer robe, but couldn't get to the tie for her under-robe and remain on his knees above her. She intuited what he wanted, undid the tie, and spread the fabric wide to expose her compression top. He could see the imprint of her tin of birth control pills through it, and he felt his dick throb at the thought of having her raw.

Her nipples were peaked, too, and his mouth watered at the prospect of tasting them. He ordered her to push her top up and watched as she did. Her breasts jounced free with a decadent jiggle. He couldn't stop the groan that bubbled up from his chest as he dick throbbed at the simple sight.

He leaned over and kissed the center swells of her gorgeous tits--teasing himself and her before moving to one nipple. He pinched and tugged at it with his teeth as her little whimpers encouraged him to lave his tongue over her flesh. He moved to the other one as he felt her pull him closer by his shirt. She tugged him up her heaving chest until he was lined up with her, his hips nestled between her legs.

The pupils of her eyes were blown wide, and her lips were wet from her tongue. He wished to imprint the vision in his memory of her just like this: beautiful and wanton and _his_. He kissed her again, feeling as she moved under him. The heat of her cunt--even through clothes--made him crazy.

She grabbed his ass and pulled him tighter to her. He rolled his hips with a muted groan; the cotton of his scrub pants giving a little extra friction against the sensitive head of his cock. Her hands were under his shirt, smoothing up his back. It was so good, too good, and he felt like he was going to practically explode.

She mouthed at his jaw, her teeth scraping against his stubble. "Touch me," she moaned.

He leaned his weight on his right elbow and pushed his left hand under her clothing. Her hot pussy was wet and slick against his fingers. He felt he could trail his fingers along her drenched slit until she screamed in need, but he realized he didn't have that kind of patience at the moment.

He found the little bud of her clit as she whispered, "Right there," against his skin.

"So wet," he praised and then sucked at her slack bottom lip.

He circled her clit with two fingers, remembering the rhythm which she liked. He felt her thighs flex under him and he rolled his pelvis against her body. He could easily do this until they both came. He wouldn't mind. Just being with her, like this, was more than he'd ever thought he'd have again.

He warned, _"Fuck_ , I'm gonna blow the second I get inside you."

She mewled at his words and began moving with his fingers. She clawed at his back as he kept going. He knew she was close and he wouldn't stop until he got what he wanted.

"Come on, baby," he murmured. "Come for me."

She keened, her teeth clenched, and met his gaze. He pressed a little harder, and she trembled like a leaf in the wind--in their storm of wind and rain. Her head fell back as she cried out; her cunt pulsing against his fingers. He encouraged her, telling her he could feel it, as he stilled his fingers and let her ride her orgasm out.

As she tried to catch her breath, she leaned up for a kiss. He met her halfway and wanted to devour her. She seemed made for him, or vice versa. He didn't know anymore--all he knew was that he couldn't get enough.

He felt her wiggling under him and he glanced down to see her struggling with her leggings. He wanted to shout out some pent-up energy because the galaxy couldn't keep them apart, that he'd given her something good, that she wanted him at all. He sat up and got his shirt off--accidentally taking the necklace along with it--and scrubbed at his armpits before tossing it away.

She sat up to run hands all over his torso. She reached up and dragged her nails down his chest. That eclipse of delicate pain made his spine arch and his head go fuzzy for a second.

No more waiting, he decided and brought one of her ankles to his shoulder. She collapsed back onto the bed as he unzipped her boot. He threw it to the floor and then worked her leggings and underwear down her hips. She raised her ass to help get the one leg free.

He pushed her now-bare leg to the side and stared down between her legs. "Fuck," he bit out and yanked his pants down. In the hazy midday sun coming through the double doors, he could see how ripe she was. He wanted in her so badly.

He told her to guide him in as he propped himself above her. Just her hand around his cock alone made his balls draw up, and he knew he wasn't going to last. And with the first contact of her hot slickness, he bit his lip to concentrate on that slight ache instead of blindly rutting against her.

She angled herself a little, and he could feel she'd found that perfect angle for him to just slide right home. So, he did. He watched as his dick sunk into her. Her pussy was fluttering around him in the last throes of climax. He felt deaf and blind to anything but her and her body.

She let out a pleased sigh as he settled against her, his pelvis against hers. She sounded as if it was a relief to have him inside her. He wanted to tell her it was the same for him, but making his brain work when his cock was buried in her hot, tight pussy was beyond him.

He spread his knees as much as his pants would allow and lowered himself onto his elbows. He stared down at her, wishing he had two hands to hold her face, hold her everything.

"I'm never letting you go," he divulged.

She settled her hands around the outside of his arms and gave them a gentle squeeze. "Then don't."

He rested his forehead against hers and began to move. She rocked with him, taking every inch of him. He thought he would've been pounding her into the mattress, but it didn't feel right. He just wanted to feel her against him, feel her body moving with him.

"I want it-- _you_ ," she moaned. "All of it. You're mine, Kylo." _I'm yours._ She gasped and drew her bottom lip between her teeth for a second. "Stars, you feel so good." _I missed you so much._

He closed his burning eyes and sped up just a little. He could feel his body locking up, riding that precipice of ecstasy. He couldn't stop it, couldn't control it, and he let it take him. Everything stopped as if time froze for a crystallized moment, and then he was gasping for air as if his throbbing orgasm had pulled it right from his lungs. His cock was pulsing as he filled her with his seed; he felt her clench around him.

As he became aware of his body again, he realized he was shaky and weak. He let her take some of his weight as buried his face in her dewed neck. He eased kisses up her shoulder and neck until he reached her lips. He tilted her face to him and lazily kissed her.

He gave her one more peck before pushing himself up and back onto his knees. She rested her legs on his as he stroked the silky skin of her inner thigh. He watched as his come oozed out of her in a sinful slide and down onto the linens underneath them. It did _something_ to him. He couldn't name it, but it felt primal.

"I've made a mess of you again."

She hummed with a satisfied grin and told him he'd just have to clean her up. He had an idea for that--something they hadn't done in too long. He offered her a shower and thought about running his hands--no, _hand_ \--all over her wet, soapy skin--paying extra attention between her legs.

She laughed in utter delight as he suddenly pulled her up onto his lap and hugged her. She wrapped her arms behind his neck, her outer robes draping them in black. She playfully kissed his big nose and then hugged him as if he'd float away. In turn, he held her close and just breathed against her skin for long, sybaritic moments.

She pulled back and looked him over. "Who took your hand? What happened?"

He told her that Rey had lucked out when she got her wild swing to connect. He backed up in the narrative to tell her about sensing her in the interior of the _Finalizer_ and heading for her. She added that she had been by the turbolifts. He nodded, because that made sense, and said that he felt Skywalker on the way.

"Who killed Skywalker?" she asked.

"He surrendered to the Force. No one technically killed him."

"So, your mother--"

"Needs someone to blame," he summed up. "Kin Al was fighting him. It seems logical to say that _he_ killed Skywalker."

"Jeckhum knows."

"I imagine he felt it, too."

He was going to have to explain Kin Al's death to Jeckhum when they met up again. He didn't want to, and he guessed, he really didn't have to. He was their elected master, after all. However, it wouldn't be right. Jeckhum deserved to know how he was responsible. From there, Jeckhum could decide what he needed to do.

"Do all the Knights feel each other?"

He replied, "I feel them."

"Then you know--"

He knew where she was going and finished her thought. "Baltek, yeah."

There was a lull in the conversation where she slid off his lap and rolled to side to get her other boot off. She tossed it off the bed, and it hit the floor with a cushioned clunk. He watched her wiggle out of her leggings and panties.

She looked up at him as she folded her compression top over her breasts. "So, Rey took your hand and now your mother wants you to help her?" she incredulously confirmed.

"The holocrons will help us, too."

"But why send them to Rey?" She shrugged. "Forget her. She's on her own."

"We don't have to send unaltered holocrons to her," he said as he got up to toe off his slip-ons and let the scrub pants fall to the floor.

"The one that's here, though..."

He padded over to the glass doors and stretched his arms up and out. No one was out there, and the Calrissian land extended for klicks beyond the grassy plain surrounding the house. It wasn't as though he were particularly modest these days, anyway. His body, scars and all, was his body. Or at least what was remaining of it.

"We take it, copy it, and send her what we want," he decided.

He heard the sound of fabric rustling from behind him and he could practically feel the gears whirling in his beloved's mind.

"What if your mother finds out?" she pointed out.

He lifted a shoulder and turned back to her. "She'll be pissed, but I can handle her."

His apprentice was perched at the edge of the bed and naked; her clothes lying next to her. Her hair was ruffled, and she looked wild. She gave him a small smile.

"Come on," she said and held out her hand. "Let's get cleaned up."

After a shared shower, where they had eventually washed themselves, she told him about what had happened in the days they were separated. Hux was alive, had been shot twice while on the bridge, and was recovering on Oba Diah, the home of the Pyke Syndicate. Jeckhum had made introductions with the three leaders of the syndicate and tried to call in a favor that had been owed to Kin Al, but to no avail. She had ended up bargaining with them to take on a pyke for training.

"Did you choose someone with Force-sensitivity?" he interrupted her story.

"Yes, I think. Swisted--Swisted Rig--has something. She was the only one amongst their warriors who felt different."

He nodded and requested she continue. She went on to say that Hux had known the last Resistance base was in the Ileenium System. Yideth had done some research, and they had narrowed it down to D'Qar.

He asked, "All through the Pyke's network?"

She nodded. "It's secure, they assured us." She added, "Your mother was being interviewed on a news channel." She paused and gnawed on her lip. "Your father's Han Solo. I thought your last name was _Organa_."

"Organa's my middle. My mother's is Amidala--her mother's family name."

They were sitting in bed, watching the afternoon turn into early evening. He tried to fill in the gaps between the point of invasion through to his capture, but he couldn't make sense of where his apprentice had been for all of it. She had left the hangar, busted through a blockade and killed the invaders behind it, and then had gotten to the turbolifts. He realized she hadn't told him anything beyond that.

"What happened at the turbolifts?" he asked. "During the invasion."

She was quiet, and he looked over to see her focused on the squat tumbler half-full of water in her hand. She turned the glass in her light. The longer the quiet stretched out, the more concerned he became. He was about to disobey her wishes and read her when she took a deep breath.

"I saw Luke Skywalker," she began. "I mean, I bumped into him."

"Did he hurt you?"

She glanced up at him as though it was a stupid question. "No, of course not." She looked back down at her glass. "Sidious--he haunts me, you know--"

"Wait." He remembered her mentioning Sidious before. This Sidious had been with her during the interrogation she'd headed on Volik--the assassination attempt on Hux. At the time, he'd been too preoccupied by the filthy fantasy of her keeping him as a breeding stallion. However, now he wasn't clouded by lust.

"How long have you been haunted?" he inquired.

"Maybe from the beginning? I don't know. He's been a voice in head since my vision of you burning the temple."

_"Coruscant,"_ he gritted and shot out of bed, his ears ringing.

He wished for something to throw, something to break. He wanted to tear the house down. She'd been compromised almost since the beginning, and he'd been too blinded by desire and loneliness to see it. She had darkness around her sometimes, but it hadn't been the dark side, like he'd thought. No, he realized as he paced, it was someone guiding her, taunting her.

She was kneeling on the bed with an anxious, wary look on her face he never wanted to be the reason for. He stopped at the lower corner of the bed and realized his left hand ached from where he'd been squeezing it so hard.

He took a deep, centering breath and released his fist. "Continue."

"Sidious wanted me to kill Luke Skywalker. He wanted me to be a legend." She relaxed back and folded her legs in front of her. "I refused to do it."

"We'll get to the why later. Go on."

"Sidious, he... I don't know how he did it, but he made me think he'd cut me open. He--" She stopped to put a hand to her face, and he could see her eyes starting to flood. "He gutted me," she croaked. "There were-- There were--" Tears started rolling down her cheeks and she sobbed, "I had my intestines in my hands!"

He rushed around the bed and scooped her up, using the Force to compensate for his right arm. She clung to him as he sat down with her on his lap. Her hot forehead pressed against his neck as she wept. Her tears dripped onto his chest, and he let them trickle down his skin.

"Went up to the bridge... to find H-Hux," she brokenly explained. "And he was shot. And I c-couldn't go anywhere else. An-and I wanted to find you. _So bad._ And then my right arm was bur-burning and I b-b-blacked out."

He softly shushed her, telling her that was enough. He could extrapolate from there. He'd sent Jeckhum and Yideth away right before then, and obviously, one of them had tracked her down. They must've found her and Hux together on the bridge and somehow smuggled them off the _Finalizer_.

There had to be a way to drive Sidious out, he thought. He hoped the Jedi holocron had something about spiritual protection or cleansing within its memory banks. Ironically, the one person he could've gone to with this predicament was Skywalker. Skywalker must've sensed something when he and his beloved had "bumped" into each other.

He couldn't shake the feeling Skywalker and Sidious were associated--not in deed, but in circumstance. He racked his brain trying to find the connection as he rested his cheek on the top of his apprentice's head. It came to him that perhaps Skywalker had mentioned a person by the name of Sidious-- _Darth Sidious?_ \--during one of his numerous lessons. Maybe a Sith holocron would reveal more, if Sidious had been a Sith lord. It seemed likely because there was no way a regular person could do something like she'd described.

"I'm sorry," she murmured and then sniffed, rubbing at her face.

"Nothing to be sorry for." He stroked his left hand over her bare thigh.

"I should've told you earlier."

"You did, and I didn't hear you." He had a bad habit of that. Nashi used to accuse him of not listening to her. Maybe she'd been right. There must be something about his sexual partners he didn't want to listen to, or he only had ears for certain things. Nashi had always said he lacked respect for her.

His beloved leaned back against his arm to look up at him. "I kept it from you. It's my fault." She looked down and wiped at the tear tracks on his chest. "I thought I could handle it."

"Is he still with you?" he asked.

_"I don't care._ I'll never listen to him again."

He tilted her chin up. "You tell me if he comes back." He wouldn't have some phantom hurting her. He would _listen_ to her, and they would do something about it.

"I will," she whispered. "I promise."


	28. You're My Chocolate

In the morning, he was awakened by soft kisses on his neck. There were fingers in his hair and a curvy body half-draped over his left side. He groaned, feeling his dick stir at the tender caresses, and reached up to touch before he bothered to open his eyes.

His right hand didn't connect with anything, and his eyes popped open with confused disorientation. He briefly wondered if he were dreaming, but that didn't make any sense. He knew he wasn't hallucinating because he felt his beloved pressed up against him and the marshmallow-y mattress underneath them with the fine sheets covering it.

The room was cool and almost dark--with no lights on and the opacity of the glass doors set at ninety-percent--and he raised his right hand above his face to find it missing. _Oh._ He couldn't feel anything because there was no hand to feel.

A deluge of absolute loathing drowned any desire, and he ordered her to get off him. She scooted away to free him from her overly sweet touches. He couldn't take it. He sat up to stare down at the stump of his right arm: the physical evidence of his own folly.

He should've seen Rey coming or ripped her apart the second he'd had the chance. He imagined how it would've felt, to rend her flesh and hear her scream until it dissolved into pained gurgles and then finally silence. Somehow, it didn't feel as satisfying as he thought it would. He couldn't even imagine reaching out to touch her with the Force, let alone with the flesh.

From behind him, his beloved murmured, "It's okay. It's just us."

"I know that," he fumed.

"I don't care."

He glared over his shoulder. _"I care."_

He could just make her out in the dim. The black undershirt--one of his--she had worn to bed was crooked on her torso. One of the straps was barely on hanging onto her shoulder. Her skin softly shone in the low light. Her hair was just tamed and tucked behind her ears. He could discern the swells of her breasts under the shirt, could see the beginnings of her cleavage.

"I mean, it doesn't matter to me," she corrected herself as he studied her.

"It should." He faced forward again before his cock got back in the game and his own desire distracted him from the reality of his situation.

"Don't tell me what I need to care about. I have priorities--and you are it right now."

"You just want to fuck."

"I do." He heard the rustle of fabric and the mattress dipped a little behind him. "Don't you want me?"

He felt her hands on his bare back. His first instinct was to shake her off, but he couldn't make himself do it. She smoothed her palms over his shoulder-blades and swept his hair to one side.

He admitted, "Of course."

"Then lie back and let me fuck you," she whispered in his ear.

He relaxed back and let her guide him down to the bed. He found the indent from his head in the pillow and wiggled into it. She bent over him and kissed him. Stale breath or an oily nose was nothing in the face of such loving treatment. He melted into it as he reached for her with his left hand. His palm landed on her upper arm, and he pulled her forward to lie on him.

Between the two of them, they got off her shirt and his briefs. His erection pushed against her cotton panties as she straddled his hips and rolled her mound against him. She sat up and brought his hand up to one of her breasts. It fit perfectly in his hand, and he fondled her, tweaking her nipple just because he could.

She purred and trailed her fingers over his loose, disregarded right arm. He wanted to pull it away from her touch, snap at her, but the look in her eyes stopped him. She seemed determined and accepting yet demanding.

_Let me do this_ , he heard her think at him. _Just let me do this._

She traced the edge of the metal plate, and he shivered as he forgot what his left hand was doing. She turned her hand and pressed it against the plate to stroke over the different outlets. His quiet nerves suddenly zinged awake at her touch, and he drew in a sharp breath.

"You think this means something, but it doesn't." She leaned forward, free hand on his chest, to whisper, "You survived--that's all it means to me."

He opened his mouth, but she continued:

"All your scars mean you survived. I love them."

There was a fierceness to her words that brooked no argument. He liked it. He pushed up to kiss her, grabbing the back of her neck to keep her in place as he nipped at her bottom lip and slid his tongue against hers. Her breasts were pressing against his chest, and it drove him a bit wild. He kissed her harder, hungrier.

She wriggled on top of him, her legs kicking back one and then the other, and it took him a second to realize she was getting her underwear off. When she settled back on him, there were no barriers between them. He could feel everything: the softness of her belly, the innocent patch of her pubic hair, the slick heat of her slit right against his cock.

He let her go, so she could break the kiss and sit up. She got a hand around the base of his dick and eased down onto it. She was a scorching perfection--burning away all other thought than that of her body against his.

She braced her hands on his chest, her tits right in front of him, and began grinding her pelvis against him. She kept going, her pussy flexing around his cock. He bent his knees and moved with her, pushing his dick deep inside her again and again. All the while, he held onto her hip with his left hand, guiding them together. The slap of flesh spurred him on, making him forget any earlier irritability.

It seemed as though they'd only gotten started when she came with a sharp cry. The surprise of it, the sheer intensity of it, had him groaning and stiffening up under her and filling her. She sobbed above him, cursing at the ceiling, undulating in his lap, as he felt her hot cunt pulse in time with him.

He lay there after his body had calmed down, shocked at being so overpowered by an orgasm. He wasn't sure what he was overwhelmed by exactly, but he knew that he was. She shook him out of it by kissing him again. He pushed his hand into her messy hair at the back of her head and lost himself to her lips.

She mewled as his softening cock slipped out of her. He felt the hot gush of their come slide down his shaft and over his balls. The feeling alone had his dick giving one final, weak pulse.

He put a hand on her ribs and urged her up his body until her breasts were right over his face. He sucked at her nipples and mouthed at the underside of each breast. He got a hand on her ass and teased her hole as he kissed up the valley between her plump tits.

"Ready for round two?" he asked as he felt the tension, the heady rush, of arousal pool low in his groin.

She let out a laugh that was more breath than sound. "Hell yeah."

-

They had missed breakfast. Tendra wasn't surprised in the least and rolled with the change in schedule easily enough. She teased them by saying that she'd make a nice breakfast the next day with the implication that they would show up for it.

With Lando due back sometime today, he didn't know if they'd be there for breakfast. Nevertheless, he agreed as they sat down at the kitchen island once again. His beloved was complimenting the Calrissian home and property while Tendra made them grilled sandwiches consisting of thinly sliced meat, chopped pickled vegetables, and local white cheese.

He was going to protest about too much dairy, but Tendra made his exactly how he liked it: with just enough cheese to hold all the components together. As their sandwiches--two cut into manageable pieces for him, one for her--were cooling, Tendra brought them tall glasses of sweetened tea. His beloved said something, but he didn't catch it. It was suddenly quiet, _too quiet_ , and he looked up. Something was off, unbalanced, tenuous--like a bubble about to pop.

There was an uninvited party on the property.

"Someone's here," he said as the front door opened.

He stood to face the interloper, ready to defend his aunt and apprentice, as the person stepped into the foyer. He reached out with the Force to read the person to find a furious Lando Calrissian. He'd never felt Lando so livid before. Lando felt like a stranger. The weight and force of such emotion made him take a half-step back.

Lando's dark eyes flashed at him as he marched through the living room to the north wing of the hacienda. _Lando knew._ Organa had _lied_ to him. He turned to his beloved and whispered to her to pack up their things. It was obvious that Lando would never allow them to stay--especially now that he knew what he'd done.

Tendra held up her hands, placating them. "Just stay here. Please," she pleaded before hurrying after Lando.

Once she was out of earshot, he said, "My orders still stand."

His beloved obeyed, but he could feel her bristle under being commanded to do anything. He belatedly realized he should've said _request_ instead. He'd make it up to her, he decided. He stared down at the untouched sandwiches and tea. It would be shame to waste them, he thought. He stacked the three sandwiches together and wrapped them as best he could in pliofilm for travel.

He couldn't hear Lando or Tendra from the kitchen, but he figured they would be arguing. He didn't need to be around for _that_ , and he'd overheard enough couple's fights to last a lifetime, so he walked back to his suite in the south wing. They had unpacked their crate to organize it better before coming out. They had left it in disarray, foolishly thinking they'd have plenty of time to sort their effects.

He found her kneeling on the thick carpet of the lit closet, rolling clothes and placing them in their crate. She was using a clean undershirt for accessory wrangling. He stared at her back, her gathered hair, and wanted to kneel behind her to wrap his arms around her. They didn't have time that, though.

"I apologize..." he began. He didn't want them at odds in the face of Lando Calrissian's wrath. Also, he hadn't meant to take such a hard stance. He had to keep reminding himself that they were a team.

She huffed out, "For what?"

"For bringing us here." He stared down at the somewhat neat package of sandwiches in his hand. "We should've just gone to some random planet to hide for a few days. I should never have trusted my mother."

"Nothing bad has happened yet," she pointed out as she scooted around to face him. "Your uncle is only angry. What did you expect?"

Honestly, he hadn't known what to expect. Maybe a blaster bolt to the gut? Surely, there was a bounty on his head by now. Lando could turn him over to the authorities and watch him twist in the wind.

From behind him, the main door to the suite opened and he turned to see a protocol droid waddle in. The tall droid was cream-colored with gold and black details. When the droid saw him, it seemed to perk up.

"Master Ben!" the droid--with female programming--exclaimed. "So good to see you again, sir. I do not know if you remember me, but I am Y3-RO."

He grinned in spite of himself and the situation. He remembered Yero when she had been in an older model of droid and blue. "Hi, Yero." He used to call her _Ero_ before he had mastered making the ye-sound.

His beloved stood, dusted her knees off, and introduced herself before he could. Yero gave her the droid equivalent of a curtsy as she greeted her. Yero told them she had accompanied Lando for business on Coruscant, which was why she hadn't been there to welcome them. She told them as an aside that she was glad she hadn't had to call upon her combat protocols this time.

"Is that something you do often?" his apprentice asked with a grin.

"Oh no, miss! It's only that the bodyguards of some business associates are rather aggressive."

"Trigger-happy halfwits," he offered.

"Indeed, sir." Yero transitioned to the real concern bringing her to them. "Master Lando has told me to keep you two from leaving. He said, and I quote, 'not to let that son of a pirate leave.'"

"Like imprisoned?" his beloved asked. He knew she was debating about Force-calling her lightsabers.

"Not at all," Yero clarified. "I was there when Mistress Leia commed. Master Lando was quite relieved to learn that you, sir, had survived the battle."

He grumbled, "He didn't seem relieved when he arrived."

"Perhaps, but he did immediately agree to host you two when Mistress Leia asked."

"That's because Lando is a good man."

"While I agree with that statement, I also think it's because he has great affection for you and your family."

"Yero, I'm hardly family anymore." Not after what he'd done to it.

"That I do not agree with," Yero stated. "Shall I report to Master Lando you two are staying?"

He looked to his beloved, and she shrugged with acceptance. If the Calrissians posed no threat, it would be rash to scurry away. They wouldn't be able to comm for a taxi or open the glass doors in their suite without Yero knowing about it, anyway. He was sure she'd already locked down the house with their potential fleeing in mind.

"For tonight," he conceded.

-

They did not miss breakfast this time. Tendra and a cooking droid were putting out quite a spread when he and his beloved came into the kitchen. Lando was already there and talking to Tendra about something. He was looking as debonaire as he remembered in a maroon shirt, navy trousers, and black boots, and his wavy hair was more silver now than black. They were both laughing until Lando noticed him.

Lando coolly ignored him, but turned to his apprentice and introduced himself. "I must apologize for not welcoming you yesterday..." The sentence trailed off for her to volunteer her name.

His beloved offered her name and her hand as she stepped forward. Lando took her hand in both of his and gave her a dazzling smile, repeating her name like it was a treasure. He cozied up beside her and tucked her hand in his elbow.

"Do you like photography?" Lando asked his apprentice as he led her away from the kitchen. "My wife took the most stunning picture! I had it enlarged and hung in the dining room. Come, let me show you."

He looked over at Tendra, and she replied with a grin and an indulgent roll of her eyes. Lando would always step up to the challenge of charming a guest staying in his home. He knew it was also a ploy on Lando's part to keep from having to talk to him.

He glanced back at Lando and his apprentice one more time before walking farther into the kitchen. He eyed the linen-lined basket full of fresh blue-milk cheese biscuits sitting on the island. "Good morning, Aunt Tendra."

"Good morning, Ben," she returned as she pulled a baking tray of something from the oven while the cooking droid prepared some sort of broth-based soup. "I hope you like your eggs scrambled."

"Scrambled is good." He took a deep breath of the sweet scent of baked goods. It was comforting in a way that was unexpected and yet familiar. He wanted to peek over Tendra's shoulder to see what she'd made.

His mother had baked occasionally when home, usually something on the savory side to go with the main course, but he remembered best her Alderaan stew--which she never allowed anyone to help her make. He also liked the sihan peach crisp she'd make and serve with bebbleberry ice cream during the summers on Chandrila. Leia Organa had never been, and would never be, a wizard in the kitchen, but she had a few dishes that were remarkable.

"Good, we'll be done in a few." She shooed him out of the kitchen with a smile, "Scoot!"

With a private grin, he made his silent way down the main hallway to the dining room. The golden sunlight was pouring through the frosted transparisteel of the double front doors. It glinted off the polished floors, and he had to avert his gaze to keep from being blinded. He heard the murmur of conversation as he approached the dining room and he stopped just out of sight.

"--condolences. My master told me you were close with Han Solo," disclosed his apprentice.

"I'm surprised he would fess up to being related."

"He's been conflicted--all these years it seems. Snoke tried to burn everything good out of him, but failed." There was an unwavering core in her words, like she truly believed him to be more than a beast.

Lando was quiet for a thoughtful moment. "He loves you."

"I love him." She let out a breath full of self-aware paradox. "Terribly."

"Maybe he's not so far gone, then."

They kept talking, but he couldn't concentrate on their words. He pressed his back to the wall and stared off at nothing. From what his mother, and now uncle, had said, they thought that they had _lost_ him--not that he'd willingly run off after killing a school full of padawan learners. They thought, foolishly so, that Snoke had _stolen_ him. They ignored the fact that with every opportunity given to him to leave Snoke, he hadn't.

And yet here he was, eavesdropping with his heart in his throat. Snoke would be disgusted by him. _He_ was disgusted by himself. He wanted to rip everything apart until his remaining hand was bloody and scream until his throat felt like a raw, red abrasion. He wasn't a victim. He wasn't some little boy lost. He'd made his decisions, and everything after was the will of the Force.

The cooking droid tottered past him and into the dining room with a platter of sausages and thin ham steaks. A few paces behind it, Tendra held a tray holding four steaming bowls of miso soup. He heard Lando say how good that smelled to the droid. He wanted to dash away, go out to the tall grasses, and lose himself in the Force.

Tendra stopped in front of him and whispered, "You ready?"

It seemed like a loaded question, but one he was ready to answer. "Yes."

He followed Tendra into the sunny dining room and sat across from her, his apprentice by his side. The table was an oval of smooth, dark wood and surrounded by upholstered chairs to encourage long, lingering meals and discussions. He recalled getting bored while the adults had talked around this very table.

He tried not to attract too much attention as he managed to spoon a few of the pale morsels of soft protein floating in the broth into his mouth and then drink the rest. He was given the option of caf, juice, or water by the droid, and he chose water. His apprentice decided on juice and, after the droid had moved on, she leaned close to say he could try it if he wished.

He softly thanked her and had the urge to pull her chair right next to his. He wanted to be hip-to-hip with her and put an arm around her. She gave him a little smile and straightened back up.

As he moved the now-empty small soup bowl to the side to let the droid fill his plate with hot scrambled eggs, a thin steak of roba ham, and a hearty link of spicy nerf sausage, he caught Lando studying him. He didn't know what to do, what to say. He couldn't demand Lando see him as a person who had made some questionable choices and not as some stupid kid who needed protection.

Tendra gasped and drew their attention. "Oh, Ben, I'm so sorry! I didn't think." She stood. "Let me take this back to the kitchen to have COO-21 cut all this for you."

He looked down at this plate, at all the large, solid portions. "It's fine. I'll manage." He lifted the steak knife on his right with the Force. "See?" He picked up his fork to steady the sausage as he cut it into coins.

"Would you like a biscuit?" his beloved offered, diffusing the situation in a way that he never would've thought of.

"Yes, please." He glanced up at Tendra to see her sitting back down. "Thank you, though."

The meal went on. After a few bites, and compliments to the chefs, Lando told them of his latest visit to Coruscant. His apprentice related their stay at the Imperial Hotel--or at least the censored version. Lando mentioned he had no idea The Imperial kept the name after so many years.

As he sliced his ham steak in half and placed one portion in an opened biscuit, he said that Coruscant seemed to like referencing back to its latest pinnacle. Lando agreed with a snort and mentioned that Coruscant wasn't as glittering as it once was. His beloved was incredulous at that, asking:

"Really?! I thought it was gorgeous."

"Oh, it's still a colorful place," Lando admitted. "But it's not what it once was."

After swallowing his bite of biscuit and ham, he said, "We went underground. All I can say is the worms keep it clean down there."

"You two are braver than me."

He grinned at his uncle, remembering all the stories he heard growing up. "I don't know about that." He'd never blown up a Death Star, that was for sure. Or faced off with the slavers on Kessel. Or liberated a whole city.

Tendra picked up her caf mug and took a sip. "I don't like Coruscant at all. A lot of life, but no green." She set her mug down and offered a linen-draped basket to his beloved. "Here, have a cloudberry muffin."

She found a perfectly golden muffin in the batch, cut it half to reveal the little chunks of orange-colored fruit sprinkled throughout, and took a bite. Her eyes went round with delight as a flattered Tendra smiled. Lando stated he wasn't surprised, saying his darling wife knew her baking.

"Hand me one, won't you, baby?" Lando asked Tendra.

His beloved offered the other half of her muffin to him, and he took it because he knew it would make her happy. He buttered his half and ate it while stealing glances at her. She was beautiful with the morning sun bringing out the hidden highlights in her hair. Her eyes sparkled as she smiled at something Lando said. He wanted to take her back to their suite and love her, put his hands, his mouth, all over her, until they were both exhausted.

His thoughts were interrupted by Lando asking if he could steal his nephew away for a few minutes. The food in his stomach instantly turned to rock and the last bite of muffin morphed into charred cinders. He mentally berated himself for his reaction because he wasn't actually _afraid_ of Lando Calrissian nor what he might say. Lando wouldn't do anything to him; he wasn't even armed.

He swallowed despite not wanting to and took a sip of water before dabbing his mouth with the cloth napkin. "Steal away."

He and Lando left the dining room, and he didn't look back. He couldn't let his beloved see his apprehension. Lando led him to the partially sun-warmed courtyard. It was cool still, the night lingering in the shady corners. He found himself focusing on the winterized fountain in the middle of the courtyard. There was heavy, enameled cast-iron furniture in casual groupings for entertaining, but he didn't want to sit.

"Leia told me you're here for Luke's holocron," Lando opened the conversation as he leaned a hip on the sturdy bistro table and crossed his arms.

He nodded. "Your copy, yes."

"You're going after more, too."

"As many as I can, I suppose."

"I should deny you any Jedi wisdom. I'm not sure you deserve it--after what you did." Lando held up a hand to stop any reply. "That was my first thought. But the more I think on it, the more obvious it is you need it the most."

"Who told you?"

"Chewie. When he found out what Leia's plans were for you, he felt the need to inform me of your actions."

Chewbacca had always been protective of Han--and vice versa. They were as brothers. It seemed obvious now that Chewie would be the one to tell Lando. He had been there, after all.

"He shot me," he uselessly added.

"He failed to mention that."

He shrugged because it was something that had happened. He had a scar from it, but it was one of many.

Lando continued, "He's quite angry with you, Ben."

"I think it goes beyond anger." In all likelihood, Chewbacca hated him and would hate him until the day he died. He didn't yet know how he felt about that.

His answer seemed to irritate his uncle and it was apparent in his voice. "Don't you want to make amends with any of us?!"

"There's nothing I could possibly do," he replied. "I killed my father. There's no coming back from that." And it was exactly what Snoke had meant to happen, he acknowledged. Even after his death, Snoke's machinations continued.

Lando uncrossed his arms and gripped the edge of the table as he leaned forward. "Don't you want your family back?"

"It's not a matter of wanting them back."

"That isn't an answer."

"It's the only one I have right now."

Lando was quiet for a minute before he asked, "Do you know what changed my mind about giving you the holocron?"

He shook his head despite knowing that Lando was asking rhetorically. "No."

"Tendra drew my attention to that quote you gave us for our tenth anniversary."

"I didn't think you'd still have it." He remembered redoing the calligraphy so many times that he still had the quote memorized. He dared not look at it now for fear of seeing every wobble in his penmanship.

Lando recited it as if were the paragon of wisdom: "'Families are the compass that guides us./They are the inspiration to reach great heights,/And our comfort when we occasionally falter.'"

How fitting, he thought. Out of the mouths of babes and all that. Or from the pen of stupid boys, as it were.

"Are you saying I've faltered?" he contended, resisting the very notion that he wasn't following the path the Force had laid out for him.

Lando retorted, "Are you suggesting you haven't?"

He didn't know how he could explain it to his uncle that his path was clear, but he was allowed to waver on it in private moments. He had hidden his mental stumblings from Snoke, his parents, Luke Skywalker, but never from himself. He had only revealed his shortcomings to one person, and she had accepted it as part of him. She was enough of a family, of a soft place, for him.

"But now is not the time to lose strength." Lando pointed towards the front of the house. "You have someone who needs you, who wants to help you. I think she can show you your way back."

"What makes you think I want to come back?" he blurted out on instinct. Even to his own ears, he sounded like a petulant kid.

"Well, you're here, aren't you?"

Lando was right, of course. He didn't have to follow his mother's wishes when she had given him that rough ship, and an e-credit chip, and a mission. He could've drained his mother's accounts and disappeared in the Outer Rim with his apprentice. And yet, he hadn't. Lando thought it meant something, and perhaps, his uncle was correct.

"I got something I want to show you," Lando said as he straightened up. "You and your girlfriend." Lando eyed his henley. "You'll want a jacket. Both of you. We'll be going by speeder."

Lando disappeared into the house, and he followed behind after closing his eyes to the creeping sunshine filling the courtyard. He found his beloved in the kitchen with Tendra and COO-21. He told her Lando wanted to take a drive and that she would need a jacket. While he didn't have proper outerwear, he had his over-tunic and that would have to do.

He belted it around his waist, mourning his destroyed lightsaber, while his apprentice shook out her Order uniform jacket. He asked her about the officer's overcoat he'd gotten for her before she'd left with Yideth.

"I think I left it on her ship?" she offered. "Or I might've left it in my quarters accidentally before I moved back into yours? I don't remember."

It didn't matter now, and he said as much. She would have to ditch the jacket soon anyway since it had the First Order insignias on its sleeves. He'd get her something nice to replace it, whatever she wanted.

She got on her jacket and gave him a little grin reminiscent of the one he saw at breakfast. He reached for her and brought them together. He snuck his hand under her jacket and pressed it against the small of her back to make her push her front against his. He wanted to hold her face with the other, but he didn't _have_ another.

She seemed to get him, read his body language, and looped her arms behind his neck. The action drew her shirt up, and he took every advantage to feel her skin. She pulled him to her and kissed him deeply. She tasted of sweet muffins and juice. He wanted to suck at her candied tongue and kiss her until her glace lips were puffy.

She pulled back and asked, "Is your uncle going to give you the holocron?"

He nodded. "Yes, later."

"So we're staying another day?"

"At least until we get it."

She accepted his decision with a small nod and an _okay_. He gave her waist a squeeze and then found her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. He led them out of the suite and to the foyer to find Lando already there.

Lando had on a mid-calf-length black cape with a warm-toned paisley lining. It complemented his outfit perfectly-- _of course_. There was a look Lando gave him which communicated perfectly he knew exactly what had taken them so long. He opened the exterior door just as Yero was pulling the speeder in front of the house.

"We're going back in the city. Shouldn't take long," Lando explained as he slipped into the front passenger seat of the speeder.

The journey back wasn't a long one, but felt even shorter with Lando chatting with them. He told them this was Tendra's homeworld and how she'd been expelled by the Sacorrian Triad for marrying him. The Triad had lost their power, succumbing to hubris and shortsighted deals over the years, and her ban had been forgotten with them.

He told them that while Coruscant was where they'd married, had their son, and started their business, it had never been home to Tendra. His apprentice recalled Tendra saying she didn't like the lack of green on Coruscant.

"It goes without saying, really, that city life isn't for everyone," Lando said. "For me, I like anywhere I can relax, have a drink, play some cards." He grinned over his shoulder. "Either of you play sabacc?"

Before his beloved could reply, he assured her, "You do not want to play against him. He'll rob you blind."

Lando barked out a laugh. "That's your father talking, there!"

He tensed at the claim, but pushed through. He didn't want to make things worse--he'd already done enough. "Yeah, but he wasn't wrong."

"Han was always jealous of my skill at the game." Lando felt as tense as him, he knew, but was a master at hiding it.

"You keep telling yourself that, Uncle," he drily commented and hoped that somehow it would make it better.

He could hear the hiccup in Lando's thinking when hearing himself be called _uncle_. There was a desire in Lando to push, to point out things like family and love to him, about how wrong he was about himself. Lando was pissed at him and might never forgive him, yes, but there was also a fatherly type of love that couldn't be snuffed out. He didn't deserve that sort of devotion; he was wholly unworthy of it.

There was a strained moment before Yero announced they were almost at their destination. The speeder was zipping through the warehouse district of Dorthus Tal. Lando explained that he had a depot here to store a few things that wouldn't fit at his home. Why Lando wanted to show them a warehouse with who-knows-what in it, he couldn't even guess. Lando's thoughts didn't help either, he was just eager to get them to the building.

Sometimes, he thought, it was best to let events simply unfold.

Lando showed them through a personnel entrance by the large, hangar-looking door at the front of the building. Inside was shady and cold, but clean--and full of starships and speeders. He turned to Lando to ask what they were doing here as his uncle got the overhead lights on.

"There is one in particular I want to show you," Lando not-explained and led the way through the warehouse.

He seemed to be headed for a wide, twin-hulled ship. It was a sleek pale gray with smooth lines that shone like satin under the overhead lights. It looked more like a pleasure-cruiser than anything resembling a cargo carrier. He looked over at his beloved to see confused interest written across her features.

Lando told them the ship probably needed a tune-up, maybe a little cleaning. He assured them he tried to keep all the ships he owned in good condition. While that was good, he wasn't sure why he needed to be promised it.

"My guys can come out here today to check her over," Lando finished as he lowered the ramp at the back of the ship.

"Uncle--" He looked up at the fast-looking yacht of a ship. "What is this? What are we doing here?" He didn't dare guess, but he was beginning to have his suspicions.

"This is a Vantillian catamaran. I tried giving this to your parents as a baby gift. The minute Han saw this, he had ideas about taking you out in it, showing you the stars, taking you around the Denarii Nebula. Leia wouldn't accept it, obviously." He raised a hand as to indicate its location as explaination. "She claimed it too extravagant; they had nowhere to put it." He took a step up the ramp. "So, I kept it for you. I thought you might treat her better than Han treated the _Falcon_."

"It's for me." He met his beloved's eyes. _Us._

"If you want it. Come take a look at the old girl. She's vintage, but she soars like a dream."

The interior walls which lined the broad ramp were a warm stony gray. The gold-toned running lights continued up the ramp and into the open lounge and galley. Everything was polished that same satin finish, and any soft surface was an iron gray. Deep, cushioned, and curved bench seating lined one bulkhead while the other was nothing but cabinetry for the galley. Off to one side was a prep island with ergonomic stool seating. In front of the bench seating was an adjustable-height table to serve as a dining and coffee table.

There were windows all around the open space, giving a clear view to the surroundings--which right now was a warehouse. That led his gaze to the bow of the ship. The command center of the ship--with pilot and copilot seats--was nestled in the narrower curve at the front. It wasn't defendable or sealable like most ships, but he understood the ship wasn't for battle.

Lando pointed out there were two cabins on either side of the ramp. He turned and went to one to find it full of built-in storage compartments and a bed big enough for two. The room narrowed at the head of the bed and windows continued on just one side. There was an adequate--and full--refresher behind one of the doors in the cabin as well. He assumed the other cabin mirrored this one.

When he came out, he noticed his beloved was looking around in barely concealed awe. Her fingertips trailed over the smooth counter of the island as she walked through the galley. She met his eyes, and his decision was made. They would have the ship.

"There's two more bedrooms up top," Lando mentioned.

There was a spiral staircase beside the galley. His beloved smiled and rushed up the stairs. He heard her gasp from halfway up.

As he hit the last tread, he understood her reaction. There were two cabins which almost mirrored each other. The one towards the bow of the ship was meant as the master seeing as it was bigger. The bulkheads were only transparisteel--as was the ceiling. There was lush carpet the color of ash underfoot and a big bed tucked into the narrowing of the ship at the bow, right above the command center. There were the same low gray cabinets lining the space, giving an unobstructed shelf to display whatever one wanted and store any manner of things below.

At the back of the room, next to the doorway, was a built-in wardrobe. Beyond that, connected to the main passageway, was a generous refresher with matte-finished gray tile, a discrete toilet, two sinks, and a mirror above them which spanned to a walk-in, glass-doored sonic shower. The staircase could be blocked by an insulated irising portal in the floor for ultimate privacy, which his uncle demonstrated. The other cabin was smaller, but well-appointed. It had a similar theme and complementary cabinetry with a big bed and thick carpet.

He turned to Lando who was standing beside the stairwell. "We have a ship docked here."

"I can have someone pick it up later today. Anything in it?"

He shook his head and told Lando they had all their belongings at the hacienda.

"You know, this ship was meant for a family," Lando said, a tinge of grief in the words. "Maybe not the one I intended, but that's the way things sometimes go."

His beloved stepped up to Lando and took his hand. "Thank you." He could hear the _I'm sorry_ in her voice as well. His uncle grinned and asked if she liked it. She nodded and tightly whispered that she did--very much so.

"Then it's yours," his uncle stated.

From his place in the second cabin's doorway, he said nothing for fear of ruining everything.


	29. The Fire Is Coming, But We'll Outrun it; We'll Never Be Undone

The holocron sat on the nightstand. It was a perfect cube of gold-toned undulating metalwork with the memory bank glowing blue inside like a captured star. He wanted to open it, wanted to plunge into its depths, but something held him back. He found he couldn't look at it too long--not because it was too bright, because it wasn't, but because it felt like it would suck him in if he gave it too much attention.

He could feel the weight of years and masters in it.

He had asked his beloved if she felt the same way about it. However, with it held in front of her, she couldn't hold his question long enough to answer it. Once she backed away from it, she admitted it had a pull on her. It was different than his, but sounded just as dangerous.

Lando had seemed indifferent to its gravity when he'd brought it out after dinner.

The sound of water coming from the bathroom sink broke his not-concentration on the holocron. He walked it to the closet, dropped it on top of the clothes folded in their crate, and closed the door. He took a deep breath and looked out into the night beyond the glass exterior doors.

Tomorrow they were leaving Sacorria. Tomorrow he would begin the process of getting a cybernetic mechno-arm. Lando had recommended a healer on Carosi XII, someone by the name of Atriar Rigil. He didn't know what to expect, or why Lando was recommending the healer, but he had hope it would work out. He needed his hand back because he doubted that any of the other holocrons would be as easy to acquire.

He heard his beloved puttering around in the bathroom and he slipped into the open doorway to watch her. She was fresh-faced with her hair gathered up for sleep and dressed for bed in panties and one of his undershirts. She glanced up at the mirror and then did a double-take before smiling at his reflection.

"Hey there," she greeted as she stopped what she was doing. The bathroom's warm light made her look practically angelic. Her hairline was still wet from when she'd washed her face. The scar on her upper arm from training with Yideth was a flat, pink line of shiny scar tissue, and he had the urge to kiss it again.

"Marry me," he said on impulse.

She was silent for beat, her face a caught somewhere between bewilderment and dumbfounded. She didn't seem to be breathing. "Okay," she whispered and turned to him.

He sidled up to her, not wanting to spook her. "Tomorrow."

She nodded, her face breaking into a smile so bright he thought it would burn him. He smiled back as relief coursed through his limbs, making him jittery with exhilaration. As he wrapped his arms around her, she laughed and hugged him back.

"Okay!" she crowed, agreeing to everything. She pulled back, got her hands on either side of his face, and kissed him in that fiery way she had that seemed just for him.

He couldn't help the moan that rumbled through his chest. He teased her bottom lip with his tongue, tasting the crisp flavor of the mouth-rinse she'd used. Her hands were in his hair, keeping him in place, and she opened her sweet mouth to taste him back. She knew exactly how to make his knees go watery and his dick hard.

He nuzzled her head up and kissed the underside of her jaw. "I'm going to fuck you so good tomorrow."

She stiffened in his arms and leaned back. "Tomorrow?"

"When I get my right hand back and you're my wife." He could see himself grasping her flare of her hips with both hands and then putting her on her back to pound her into the mattress like a terrible savage.

"I'm your fiancee _now_ ," she pointed out in all amusement.

"Indulge me."

"Indulge you by not having sex?"

He placed a kiss over her jugular and hummed in assent. He would make the wait worth it for her. He promised to himself he would have her clawing the sheets and shaking in pleasure. He wanted to give her that.

"Fine," she agreed. "Give me a kiss, and we'll go to bed."

He chuckled as he straightened up. He knew her tactics. "I don't think so." He kissed her cheek before she could turn her head. Her hands trailed over his skin as he stepped away.

It was going to be a frustrating night with her beside him in bed, but it would be worth it.

When he woke up in the morning, he didn't know if that was still the case. He had the worst case of morning wood he could remember in his adult life. He tried to will it away. He silently cursed at it. He thought of gooey, smelly hutt spit.

Of course, his fiancee was no help. She was still asleep, and her plump ass was pressed against his side. He laid his hand on her hip and thumbed at the thin cotton waistband. His brain oh-so helpfully mentioned that he could push his hand under the fabric and wake her with an orgasm. He did like doing that.

Instead, he got up and jerked off in the shower. It took the edge off--cleared his head. He had to remember they couldn't linger. There was a healer to see and a partnership to make official. Those things alone compelled him to rush through his morning routine and clean up his toiletries from the bathroom.

He left the bathroom to get dressed, and she smirked at him from over the headboard of the bed. She teased him by asking why he couldn't wait for her. She eyed him with casual hunger, her gaze lingering on him as if she knew what he'd done. She probably did.

"I _am_ waiting for you," he stated. "The longer you lounge around with your tits hanging out, the longer we both have to wait."

"You mean like this?" she asked as she raised herself up to flash him. Her nipples were still sleep-soft and her hair was untamed and her grin was impish--and every bit of her was too tempting.

His cock gave an impossible twitch, and he growled, "Nine hells, you karking tease, get cleaned up."

"You're no fun, master," she mock pouted, yet climbed off the bed.

He couldn't wait until that title was replaced with husband, he thought as he watched her ass as she went into the bathroom. Well, maybe not permanently replaced.

-

"I had the cleaning droid reinstalled," Lando informed them as the three of them filed out of the speeder and walked through the open warehouse. "And I took the liberty of acquiring an astromech to go with the ship."

During a quick--but delicious--late breakfast and the ride over, Lando had listed what had been done to the catamaran. It had been cleaned, the conservator in the galley had been turned on, and the fabric sanitizer/deodorizer had been replaced. The autochef had also been replaced, food pellets had been restocked, and the water tank had been filled. There were enough linens for all four cabins twice over, along with new pillows and blankets. The engines had been given a tune-up, the hyperdrive had a small upgrade, and the landing gear was freshly lubricated.

They had collectively decided to leave any First Order insignia-ed item with Lando to dispose of. His fiancee had left her officer's jacket with Tendra before hugging her goodbye. That left them only with the Order crate to clean out, and then it would be time to go.

His beloved thanked Lando and hesitated to hug him too before Lando opened his arms. She huffed out a laugh and wrapped her arms around his middle.

"Whoa, not too hard, girl. Don't want to wrinkle the outfit," Lando teased, which earned him a giggle, but he didn't let go. Lando looked up at him and then down at her before pulling back. He put his hands on her shoulders and said, "I feel this is gonna be my only chance to welcome you to the family."

"We'll be in touch," she promised.

Lando nodded as he adjusted the cape on his shoulders. "I'd like that."

With that, she lifted their crate with the Force and walked it up the ramp. That left him alone with his uncle. He didn't know what to say to gracefully leave Sacorria. He'd been giving orders for so long that he was used to telling a subordinate or a Knight they were dismissed. Lando was neither and deserved more than that, but he didn't know how to go about it.

"You treat her right," Lando began and patted the cleaned hydraulic cylinder of the ramp. He knew Lando was talking more about his fiancee than the ship. "And find your way back."

"That's my assignment?"

"Seems like a good one. I think Han would approve."

"Why do you pronounce it that way?" He'd always noticed that Lando pronounced Han's name with a short-a, but his father had never corrected him. As a kid, he never gave it much thought; it was just how Lando said his father's name.

"At first, it was to annoy him and it kinda stuck." Lando shrugged. "It's the same reason I'll always call you Ben."

"That doesn't annoy me."

"Well..." A smile spread across Lando's face. "Shit."

He ducked his head to keep from laughing. The urge passed when his beloved came down the ramp with the now-empty Order crate. "Ready?" she asked as she set it down on the warehouse floor.

"Yeah," he said over his shoulder and then turned to Lando. "Thank you."

"See you around, little starfighter."

He tried to keep a straight face as he shook his head and headed for the ramp. "Bye, Wanwo."

He heard Lando chuckling from behind him as he walked up the rising ramp. He knew from then on, Lando would be calling him "little starfighter" until he became one with the Force. Somehow, that didn't bother him much.

As the ramp closed and he took a few steps into the lounge, a bronze-colored BB-unit with pearl-gray details rolled out from between the pilots' seats in the cockpit area. His beloved took a startled step back and asked the droid how long it had been there. The droid beeped that he had been there the whole time, a little question mark at the end of his statement, and then tentatively introduced itself:

"I am a class-two droid, astromech, designation: BB-95A. I have been equipped with a computer interface arm, holoprojector array, liquid cable launchers, multiple data ports, and tool arm for repairs. I am goal-oriented and will serve however I can."

His beloved introduced herself and commented she'd never had a droid before. He hummed in acknowledgement and looked over the droid. He wondered if Lando--and hence his mother--was going to keep tabs on them through the droid. In the meantime, said droid looked between them, scanning them, studying them.

He asked the droid, "You have complete star maps? With all hyperspace routes?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Set course for Carosi-Twelve in the Carosus System as I pilot us out of the hangar."

He'd run diagnostics on it later. Even if he couldn't delete trackers in the droid, it would be good to know they were there.

"Yes, sir!" the droid repeated and rolled back to the cockpit to plug in to the navcomm.

He requested his fiancee co-pilot, and she stammered that she didn't know how to fly a ship. He smiled at her and said she was going to learn. She didn't seem enthusiastic at the prospect. She felt nervous about it all.

"Just watch what I do and do as I say," he attempted to soothe as he walked to the command area and sat in the pilot's seat.

She followed and pressed buttons or pulled levers when he told her to. After they broke atmo, he had BB-95A transfer controls temporarily to the co-pilot. She seemed to internally scream the whole time, but did just fine with minor direction from him. The droid reported that it was ready to make the jump to lightspeed.

He looked to his beloved and pointed at the hyperdrive's lever on the command console. "Punch it."

She smiled and pushed the switch to activate it. The stars stretched out for a second before the ship was engulfed in the blue tunnel of hyperspace. She relaxed back in her seat and let out a little laugh.

"Was that your first time flying?" the droid asked.

"Yep!" she answered and looked down at it. "You know, we can't keep calling you BB-95A--that's a mouthful." She glanced up at him. "Right?"

He shrugged. "What do you want to be called?" he asked the droid.

"What do _you_ want to be called?" the droid returned.

Apparently, he thought, the droid had impertinent protocols installed. "'Kylo' works just fine, short-round."

"I do not prefer designation: short-round."

"Ninety-five? Five-A?" she offered.

After a beat, the droid chirped, "Five-A is efficient."

"Five-A it is." The smile she offered was radiant. "Oh!" she began. "I need to put away our things. All I did was dump them on the bed." She stood as if to walk away, but something about her whole demeanor changed. He looked up the elegant line of her to see her eyes smoldering.

"How long do we have?" she husked out.

"Few hours."

"Why don't you help me sort."

To be wanted so badly by her was a rush. It had been something he'd fantasized about when he'd first found her. And now here it was: her wanting him, wanting to do anything with him. He was sure if he asked her to do all the work, she would. It would be so easy to lie on the bed and let her suck his dick and ride him until they both came. However, that seemed hollow when he could do so much more later.

"You can manage," he replied. "I want to check Five-A for surveillance protocols."

"I can run diagnostics without outside intervention," Five-A offered.

He was about to order Five-A to shut up when she bent to kiss him. He should've turned away, but he couldn't help himself. Her lips were soft against his, her tongue teased his, her little sigh as she pulled away almost had him yanking her onto his lap. Instead, he gripped the edge of the pilot's chair with his left hand and let her go.

She softly stated, "I'll make quick work of it and then I'll bring down the holocron."

He nodded and watched her go, thankful for her mercy. He didn't know how much more holding out he could do. He heard Five-A's photoreceptor focus on him once she was upstairs. "I was not informed you two were together."

"I'm marrying her when we land."

"Is that why you won't be alone with her? Is it a premarital ritual?"

"I want it to be special."

It took a moment for Five-A to compute what he meant by "it." "That is illogical." Five-A rolled out from between the two seats. "It is my understanding that coitus is always deemed as 'special' between humans."

"Don't ever let me hear you say _coitus_ again. And, it's not always special. Sometimes it's just two people using each other. That's not special."

"Do you use each other?"

"No."

"Then logic dictates sex within your relationship is always special."

He couldn't explain how sometimes waiting, the building of anticipation, was a good thing to a droid. "Just run the diagnostics."

"Yes, sir."

As he waited, he pivoted in the pilot's chair and surveyed the ship. He couldn't imagine something like it in his previous life. Though it wasn't as if the Organa-Solo household had gone wanting. No, it was that long vacations were a luxury his mother couldn't afford with helping to build a new government and all.

He mentally snorted. _Look how that had ended._

Five-A chirped that it was clear of surveillance protocols--at least, as far as it could tell. There were no contacts stored within the droid's memory banks, either. That boded well, in his estimation.

His beloved came back down to the lounge shortly after that and set the holocron on the adjustable-height table in front of the bench seating lining the one side. It was just as compelling as it was the night before. He told Five-A to dim the lights as he walked over to sit beside her.

She looked at him and asked how they were supposed to get any teachings out of the holocron. He explained the idea behind it: that it held information and manuals. Since the holocron in their possession was of Jedi origins, it would only have light-side knowledge.

"Okay, but how do we get to it?" she asked.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I've only ever heard of them."

Her eyes flashed with frustration in the muted light of the ship. The faint blue glow from the holocron reflected off her smooth skin. "Then this thing might as well be a paperweight."

He picked the cube up and shivered at the weightless mass of the Force incased within. It was like a thousand masters were observing him. It was the pressure of remembering every lesson that had been taught throughout a lifetime in one moment. It was a bottomless fissure. It was bright without a light source.

He knew he was unworthy to see the knowledge held within the delicate crystalline wires within the holocron.

"Kylo, look!" his fiancee exclaimed.

He opened his eyes and found the holocron hovering over his hand. The corners of the cube floated off to frame the now-bright main center piece. He pushed the holocron with the Force to levitate between them.

A multilayered mandala projected above the holocron as it settled in the air. Its circular pieces spun lazily in the air, coming together to complete the design and then breaking apart once more. There were four-legged animals, which looked like wolves to him, loping in one of the rings of the mandala. In another were floral motifs which changed into the curves of ocean waves and back again. The center of the mandala was blank and open--big enough to stick his hand through.

His beloved reached out and touched the outermost ring--which seemed to be hieroglyphics. That seemed to wake up the holocron. It pulsed a little brighter and then settled back.

"Ah, Ben, I see you've visited your uncle," the holocron greeted.

He knew that voice and he backed away from the floating cube. It couldn't be. It wouldn't be.

"Nothing to say?" The voice hummed. "That's a first."

"You're not really him."

She leaned towards him to whisper, "Really who?"

"His uncle, Luke," the holocron answered. "And no, I'm not. Not exactly. I'm a gatekeeper."

"Use another voice," he ordered.

"This is the only one I have. It's this or nothing."

"I choose nothing." He reached out to get a hold of the holocron when she stopped him with a hand on his forearm.

"Just hang on," she requested and turned to the holocron. "You're a database of knowledge, right?"

"Experiences, manuals, general information, yes."

"I want to know who Sidious was," she stated.

"Darth Sidious: dark lord of the Sith, born Sheev Palpatine on Naboo in the year 84 BBY," the gatekeeper began. It went on to impart the basics of Sidious: who his master had been and who his apprentices were. His heart stopped for a second when he heard Darth Vader listed. He should've known that. How had he not known who Vader's master was? He had a sinking feeling his family and his old master had kept such knowledge away from him. There was a horrified voice which insisted he _had_ known it all at one time, but Snoke had erased it.

The gatekeeper concluded, "Darth Sidious was killed by Darth Vader right before the second Death Star was destroyed in the year 4 ABY."

"Why did Vader kill Sidious?" he asked as his beloved sat silent beside him.

"Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker was given a choice: join Darth Sidious or die. Skywalker refused. Darth Sidious-- Actually, there is an account of the events from Luke Skywalker himself. '...I told him that he'd failed, that I would never turn to the dark side. I told him I was a Jedi, like my father before me. I powered off my lightsaber and tossed it away and accepted that my death was imminent. The emperor _abided_ by my decision and tried to kill me using Force lightning. I remember falling to the floor in pain. There was no getting away from it. He only let up to tell me how foolish I was, how my convictions were no match for the dark side, that I was going to die.

"'I looked up through the haze of lightning to beg Darth Vader, my father, to help me. I couldn't see his face because of the breathing mask in his helmet, but I felt him. I knew there was good in him. I knew he was still Anakin Skywalker under the veil of anger and self-hatred.

"'He picked up Sidious after he made his decision to save me. My father threw him over the guardrail above the reactor core. I only heard Sidious scream on the way down. There was a discharge of power as he disintegrated in the hot core of the machine.

"'All that was left on the observation deck was me and my dying father, Anakin.'"

So, his mother had been telling the truth. Vader had turned to the light before his death. He knew his family--now just Leia and Lando--wanted him to return to the light. _Only the light._ As if that would save his soul. He had never been pure. He knew that and he suspected his mother knew it as well. The light did not hold the balance and power which he sought. In the fragile shadows, the in-between, of the Force was where he needed to be.

He turned to look at his beloved to see her staring at the slowly spinning mandala. When she felt his gaze, she met his eyes; hers were haunted and seemed beyond tears.

"Anakin told me Sidious had been his master, but to hear it again..." She took a deep breath and turned back to the holocron.

"He told you? When?"

"After the battle on the _Finalizer_." She closed her eyes. "We were at a big lake surrounded by mountains. It was sunny and warm. He told me he had been married; who Sidious was to him. I told him I hadn't killed Luke."

"Why didn't you?"

"It would've been wrong. Luke was a good person."

She was ignorant of the facts, blinded by propaganda, and he could see how she could form her opinion. The galaxy derived a great amount of hope built upon the lies of the Jedi--and especially of Luke Skywalker. He stated, "He tried to kill me."

Her eyes went wide in shock. "Why? How?"

"His shit excuse was that he was trying to save me."

"I don't understand."

"He felt Snoke more than me when I was younger. He thought I wasn't me anymore. Like Snoke had taken over my body."

"Is that possible?"

"Who knows. Probably." He shrugged. "No one knows how the Force works."

The gatekeeper interjected, "There have been cases of possession. However, there are physical signs to indicate possession of an individual by a spirit. Signs include: color change to the iris and sclera of the eyes, vocal layering, and uncharacteristic actions. Did you experience any of these things?"

"Not that I'm aware," he replied.

"Then it seems unlikely you had been possessed," the gatekeeper summed up.

"Yeah, I deduced that pretty quickly, professor." He turned back to his beloved. "Have you felt Sidious since the _Finalizer_?"

She shook her head. "No. I think he was trying to use me to set up Luke's murder."

"But he failed, and Luke's dead." He cupped her cheek with his left hand, and she leaned into it. "And you survived a dark lord of the Sith."

She looked like she was about to cry, and he didn't want that. "C'mere," he whispered and relaxed back against the deep-seated bench. She pressed herself right up against him and rested her cheek on his chest. He held her tight and felt her slowly start to melt against him.

She had survived being haunted by a Sith lord, and he'd had no clue. His worship of Vader seemed puerile in the light of her suffering. Fuck the Sith, he thought. He looked at the holocron. _Fuck the Jedi, too._ He didn't care about their traditions or their principles. He would use their accumulated knowledge to further his own power. Never again would he bow down before dead men.

They must've drifted off because he woke when he felt her startle against him. Five-A had brought the lights back up in the lounge, rolled out from the command center, and was beeping that they were ten minutes out. The holocron had closed itself during their nap and was on the table once more.

He extracted himself from her hold, giving her a brief kiss before standing. He told Five-A to comm Atriar Rigil on Carosi as he sat down in the pilot's seat. The holocomm connected after a minute and a hologram of a carosite popped up over the console. The carosite was dark-skinned, had a long, bird-like neck, and a soft diamond-shaped head with large, dark mammalian eyes. He had to assume this was Rigil.

He introduced himself as Ben Solo, knowing that Calrissian preferred that name over Kylo Ren. The carosite gave a little nod and confirmed that she was Rigil. She went on to say that Lando had contacted her about his need for a cybernetic arm.

"We don't usually install cybernetics, Solo-san," Rigil disclosed. "That is to say, we don't approve of them as a culture. However, we do manufacture them--a contradiction, if I may humbly voice my opinion."

"I understand." He tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

Calrissian had set this up for nothing, he thought. They had wasted fuel getting out to Carosi XII and now they were in the Outer Rim--away from the Core Worlds where technology was more advanced. At least Oba Diah wasn't too far away, he thought.

Rigil offered him something resembling a smile with her rigid, broad mouth. Her eyes were more expressive than her mouth could ever be with such bone structure. "As a healing-only culture, it is frowned upon, but individually speaking, I have no issue with them." She nodded more to herself than him. "It would be an honor to construct a mechno-arm for you."

"I promise discretion. When are you available?"

"Today is acceptable."

"We're less than an hour out."

"Please message me when you are ready. I can send a speeder from the Newlife Point medcenter to collect you and..."

"My fiancee."

Rigil's eyes crinkled again in that not-smile smile. "I look forward restoring your body and meeting your betrothed." She gave a little bow and the holocomm cut off from her end.

He turned around in the pilot's chair and looked at his beloved. She met his eyes and something, some delicate and silent something, passed between them. He wanted to interpret it as satisfaction or even supportive, or perhaps it was both. Maybe it was just relief, but it didn't need words. Five-A interrupted the moment by announcing it was powering down the hyperdrive. He turned back to the console just as the ship came out of lightspeed.

The dark side of planet in front of the ship was mostly white. Between clouds and what looked like vast fields of snow, there were spots of light indicating settlements. He told Five-A to plot a course to Newlife Point--wherever on the planet that was.

Once they landed, they ate a small quiet meal made in the autochef--he knew it was good, but it didn't taste like much to him--and commed Rigil's office to request a speeder. The planet was colder than he expected, and they both added layers for warmth before stepping down onto the dock platform. He had his cloak, and she had the cowl draped over her shoulders and wrapped around her neck.

His fiancee rushed to the mantle of snow veiling every surface beyond the dock. In the distance was a mountain range with a dam of ice pushing between two of the peaks. The sky above was a blue so pale it could almost be mistaken for a mirror reflecting the pure white below it.

She let out a shocked laugh as she crouched and pressed her hand into the clean snow. As he approached, she commented over her shoulder she had expected it to be soft. The handful of snow crunched in her palm as she fisted it, and she broke the lump into chunks as she straightened up.

She turned to him as she wiped her hand on her hip. She studied his face and must've seen something there, or felt his lack of calm under the surface. She touched his cheek with her dry hand. "It's going to be okay."

"I know."

Even if it hurt worse than the installation of the plate, it would be okay. She was by his side. Her presence would give him the strength to see it through again.

The speeder's arrival, the short trip, and being escorted through the massive medcenter had been a blur. Introductions were quick and professional, and their overgarments were taken and stowed. Rigil, who was shorter than he anticipated, didn't bother to offer a tour of her lab--for which he was grateful. The lab itself was clean and bright with wide tinted windows which looked out onto a quad that was more steaming hot springs than lawn. There were different stations around the lab with equipment he couldn't even begin to know the purposes of.

They were shown to one of the dull-gray medical chairs in the middle of the lab before he was asked to take off his tunic. A wheeled stool was given to his fiancee so she could sit beside him. Rigil and an assistant set up the equipment as he stripped off his belt and outerwear.

Rigil informed them she'd only be scanning and measuring for now. The making of a cybernetic took precision, she stated as she held up a bundle of wires with multiple plugs at the ends. He sat and propped his right arm on the elevated platform next to the chair.

"This shall feel bizarre and not entirely pleasant, Solo-san," Rigil warned.

He turned away to face his beloved, and she surreptitiously took his hand. A sizzle of heat, like a match being lit, flared with each socket being filled. He let out the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding when he realized it was done. He squeezed her hand and relaxed in the chair.

Rigil and her assistant discussed the feedback readings before they asked him to "move" his right hand. It felt as though he were moving someone else's limb when he did, and they adjusted something within the machine he was hooked up to. They kept asking if this felt better than that. Once they were satisfied, the assistant pulled out the plugs from the sockets in his arm. It felt like a bacta patch being ripped off, but from the inside. It made his teeth itch.

He looked down at his right arm where his hand should be and was keenly aware of its absence once again.

Another machine was slid over to him, and he was instructed to stick his right arm into the wide tunnel in the middle of the machine for scanning. Then Rigil asked for his left and explained she would mirror his intact hand for the cybernetic. She went on to say as the machine scanned his left that the waterproof synth-skin would have feeling and could be cut, but obviously wouldn't bleed. Any wound would take time to "heal," but it would be best to wear a leather glove most of the time to protect the limb.

When the machine beeped that it was finished scanning, they were free to go and were told to enjoy any of the available amenities. Rigil paused mid-sentence and looked them over as if she sensed something was amiss.

"Unless something else is ailing you?" she inquired.

His beloved gave him a look before mentioning she was taking Ho'Din pills. Rigil nodded and said she was familiar with the medication.

"It is primitive, but does a fine job halting ovulation." Rigil glanced down at the lightsabers at his beloved's waist. "I am to assume children are not wanted for a few years?"

At her nod, Rigil hummed in thought. "We have developed small implants which regulate or cease ovulation. There is a team of healers here who specialize in female health, and birth control in particular. I shall comm them to see if one of them can fit you in while you are here."

A comm and a last-minute appointment put him in the observer's seat with her lying on an exam table. She had stripped off her boots, belt, and tunics, and then been scanned. The healer reported her to be in fine health and suitable for an implant. There were options, and she picked halting ovulation.

The procedure was so quick--just an injectable under the arm. It was activated and a bacta patch was placed over the injection site. His beloved looked over at him, and he could see her relief. No more pills, no more guessing--for as long as the implant was in.

When the healer left the room to go to the next patient, she gave him a sly smile. "Now I can have you whenever I want."

"You couldn't before?" he asked as he offered her the gray under-tunic.

She slipped the shirt on, tied it closed, and teased, "Well, not with you _denying_ me."

"The wait makes it all the more sweeter, my sweet."

She hopped off the exam table. "Is that what you want? Sweet?" She got on her boots and zipped them up.

"One of the ways." He knew he was being cryptic, even coy, and maybe silly.

She didn't seem to mind as she got on the black tunic and secured the belt around her waist, adjusting her lightsabers to sit against her body. "I could tell you how I want you." She stepped between his knees, placing her hands on his shoulders. He didn't dare touch her as he looked up at her.

"I wish you wouldn't." The unbidden images came from both of them, though: her hands fisting his hair, his lips brushing against hers, her thighs spread wide to accommodate his hips. He could feel the hard rhythm of his thrusts and the sweat slicking their skin. His dick was straining against the fly of his trousers at the very thought of her being under him.

"I wanna break in our new bed," she whispered.

"Fuck, you're terrible," he told her and rested his forehead against her sternum.

"I know."

He felt her playing with his hair, and he was grateful she didn't tug at it. He'd probably come.

He murmured, "I love you."

"I love you, too."

Once his cock wasn't trying to break through the zipper of his pants, he maneuvered her back with a hand on her hip and stood. She seemed a little remorseful as she bit her bottom lip and opened the exam room door.

The walk back to Rigil's lab was subdued, and she tentatively slipped her hand in his. He laced their fingers together in reply. He wasn't angry, exactly. He had to examine his feelings to understand he was frustrated--mostly with himself for imposing a sexual hiatus. He had to remind himself he'd gone longer without sex--easily months at a time when under Snoke's thumb.

Then he realized, it wasn't just about the sex. Not really. She had agreed to marry him, and he wanted it _now_. He didn't want to risk her changing her mind.

"I wonder if we can do it here," she said after feeling him through their bond.

He was relieved he didn't have to voice his stupid thoughts. However, he had a question: "You want to get married in a _medcenter?"_

"Were you planning something more elaborate?" she retorted.

He had to concede to her because he hadn't. The whole plan was: get his right hand back and marry her. His parents had had a small, quiet wedding on Endor despite his mother's royal status. She hadn't even bothered with a special gown.

When they got back to Rigil's lab, she split off from him to talk to the receptionist. He was told as he was ushered back to the lab proper that his new hand was almost ready. He was settled back into the same medical chair to wait the last twenty or so minutes.

His beloved walked into the lab a few minutes later and came straight for him. He watched the way her body moved, the swing of her hips, how she almost strutted in her black boots. Her lightsabers swayed with each step and the sleeves of her tunics fluttered around her arms. She was a person who had defended him, who loved him, who wanted to claim him the same way he did with her.

He could tell she had good news as she sat down on the stool to his left.

"They do end-of-life marriages all the time, apparently," she reported. "They call them solace weddings, and they're registered and legally binding."

"Are you sure you want to pledge here?"

"Getting cold feet already, _fiance?"_ she teased.

"I don't want you... regretting it."

She studied him for a moment, her eyes turning warmer by the second as if she was seeing beyond his simple words. He knew there was something beyond his sudden reticence. Once this was done, this was it for him. If it didn't work out, he didn't know how he'd live in the aftermath. He had destroyed so many things-- _people_ , himself included--but he wasn't sure he'd want to live after ruining things with her.

"I won't regret it. I'll have you," she stated matter-of-fact and leaned forward to place the softest kiss on his lips.

"And you'll be mine."

They were interrupted by Rigil coming over while carrying a ridiculously sized cybernetic hand/forearm. "Ready, Solo-san?" Compared to her delicate-boned, shorter frame, the limb looked like a comedic prop. The thick synth-skin was folded back to reveal the intricate wires and plugs which would connect to the sockets in the arm plate.

He nodded and rested his right arm on the platform next to the chair. Rigil repeated that there would be discomfort. He was ready for it. He could get through it because he had to. And at the end, he knew he'd be walking out the medcenter whole and with a wife.

His wife-to-be took his left hand in both of hers. She seemed more nervous than him now. Somehow, that made it easier. He could assuage her anxiety by being strong. It was for her. All of it.

The plugs scraped along the plate as the mechno-arm was locked onto it. Once fully seated, the plugs popped in all at once. It felt like being hit with Snoke's lightning again. It was a searing heat and made his hair stand on end as all his nerves fired at once. The chair beneath him disappeared as singular awareness focused on the end of his flesh arm.

He drew in a sharp breath but remained still. This was destiny, he told himself. Snoke would never hit him again with lightning. The pain was evidence he was alive.

Rigil and her assistant used sensitive probes to make sure all the wires and plugs were doing what they were designed to do. They murmured amongst themselves, making tiny adjustments and rechecking readouts.

They asked him to move his fingers and make a fist. He looked down at the new hand and let out a satisfied huff. It reacted just as it should. It felt different, a little heavier, but incredibly responsive.

When the healers were pleased, they folded up the synth-skin over the shiny mechanism he now controlled. He could feel the skin start to bond to his forearm once it settled. They told him to be still for a minute to let the bonding complete and then they began putting equipment away.

He looked over at his beloved to see her eyes swimming with tears. He softly shushed her, and she shook her head to say she was fine. As she calmed and smiled, Rigil came back to examine the bond between his skin and the synthetic and reported it was set.

"Thank you," he replied and brought the new hand in front of him. It didn't have nails or hair, nor creases, nor any of his moles, but it looked like his hand--just flawless as if it had been sculpted by a perfectionist.

He could think of nothing more fitting to touch first than his beloved. He reached out with his new right hand and trailed the fingertips over her soft cheek. It wasn't a revelation to touch her, since he'd touched her a million times before. What it was, though, was soothing. He could feel her, feel the texture of her skin, her warmth, the give of her flesh.

She leaned into his touch, uncaring that it wasn't flesh and bone. "It's still you," she croaked.

"It'll always be me."

She nodded and bent to rest her forehead against his shoulder. "Let's go get married, you dweezer."

He tucked his chin and smiled to himself as he tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear with his right hand. "Okay."

She sniffed and let go of his hand to stand. He got on his tunic and belt, relieved to be able to dress without struggling. The receptionist offered them their overgarments to put on once more. They left the lab hand in hand after thanking Rigil and her team.

The chapel was at the back of the vast medcenter. A carosite pastor in heavy steel-blue robes intercepted them in the spacious antechamber and with just a glance knew what they were there for. The pastor led them to a windowless office and settled behind the desk to pull up a form on the display imbedded in it.

They both had to scan their thumb. He came up in the galactic system immediately, but she was an unregistered individual. The pastor kicked up a fuss, stating he couldn't marry someone who wasn't registered. It was illegal, by all accounts. She would need to register on the planet of her birth with the local medcenter.

As if Jakku had a medcenter where births were documented.

He didn't have the time nor the patience to explain the situation. He directed the Force, putting weight in his words, and said to the pastor, _"You will register her now and marry us."_

The pastor nodded and agreed, "I will register her now and marry the two of you." He collapsed the marriage certificate on the screen and opened up a new document for personhood.

Within ten minutes, his beloved was an official citizen of the galaxy with a family history and place of origin. The pastor opened up the marriage certificate again and completed it. He digitally signed it and moved it onto a datapad. The pastor then asked if they had any witnesses to be present when they signed the certificate after the ceremony was finished.

"We have a droid on our ship," she offered.

The pastor instructed, "Under Carosi law, droids are not acceptable witnesses."

"Then no," he answered.

"If a sister of this community would be acceptable, she may serve as witness."

"Fine," he snapped.

She reached over and placed a hand on his thigh as the pastor shuffled out of the office to fetch this sister. He let out a breath and placed his hand on top of hers. He hated the bureaucracy of institutions. It seemed as though they were put in place to thwart reasonable actions by reasonable people. All he wanted to do was marry the person the Force had shown him when he was a kid.

Time seemed to slow, and he couldn't take it anymore. He got out of the uncomfortable, too-short chair in front of the desk and began to pace. He could count seconds with his steps instead of guessing since there was no chrono in the office.

He explained, "I hate this waiting."

"You've waited your whole life for me."

"And I don't want to delay any longer. I want to do this."

"I do, too."

As if on cue, the office door opened to reveal a different carosite. He hoped this was the aforementioned sister. She was wearing navy-blue slacks and a long embroidered white tunic which complemented the pastor's robes.

She introduced herself and stated she would be their witness and guide. She told them she would lead them down to the altar where they would face each other and take each other's hands. They would recite the vows the pastor led them through and then the three of them would sign the marriage certificate.

"All very simple," the sister concluded and had them follow her out into the antechamber.

His beloved took his arm, and he placed his hand over hers. _This was it._

The sister opened the double doors to the empty chapel. Somehow, the vacancy of bodies was filled by the sanctified air of some universal divine. The quiet made him very aware of the slow pace of their modest procession.

Before them, the front of the chapel was nothing but glass overlooking the glacier which he had seen at a distance on the dock. The sun was coming from an angle now and hit the black-veined ice to sparkle in shades of white, gray, and pale blue. It was dazzling in its radiance. The sky above it was a darker blue than before with wispy clouds streaking across the serene surface.

The pastor was waiting for them on the single step of the sanctuary. Once they reached him, he gave a small bow, which they returned. He told them to turn to each other and take each other's hands.

His beloved didn't hesitate to take his new right hand. He stroked his thumbs over her knuckles and hardly noticed the slight difference between the sensations. In the meantime, the pastor began the ceremony, but it didn't matter. He stared into her eyes, feeling the sweet breeze of her soul through the Force, and lost awareness of everything that wasn't her.

Until the pastor said his name: "Ben, please repeat after me."

He nodded and addressed his beloved, following the pastor's words. "I pledge to support, respect, trust, and love you," he began. "For better or worse, in sickness and health, for richer or poorer, as long as we both shall live." He gave her hands a gentle squeeze. "I take you to be my partner. I vow to choose you every day, to love you in word and in deed, to do the work with you to make now into our always."

The pastor turned to her and had her repeat the same vows. She was beaming up at him as she did. Her voice was soft and honeyed, as if she were sharing the truth to a long-held mystery. He felt her to his bones, as if helping him to fill in some hollow he hadn't known existed.

The pastor asked him if he would take her as his spouse, and he answered the only way: "I do."

She was asked then if she would do the same, and she smiled. "I do."

"You have come here today of your own free will and have declared your love and commitment to each other," the pastor reminded them. "By the strength of your love and commitment to each other, and by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now share your first kiss as partners," he concluded.

He let go of her hands to cradle her exquisite face in his palms. He leaned in to kiss her precious lips, and she met him halfway. He felt her hands at his waist, her breath tickling his cheek, her tender lips against his, and nothing was wrong in the galaxy at that moment.


	30. Bodies Are Broken, But It's Just A Token of What Is Surely To Come

"Hello, husband," she greeted him from her place in their refresher doorway.

He came up the last couple of steps and closed the stairwell portal in the floor. She was in just her leggings and compression top. She radiated warmth and ardor which seemed to permeate the air.

"Hello, wife," he returned as he put his hands on her hips and backed her into the refresher. He hadn't gotten to touch her since they came back to the ship from the medcenter.

She smirked up at him and braced her hands on the counter behind her. He pushed himself right up against her, making her arch back. He bent to kiss over her breastbone and up her chest until he got to her neck. She let out a soft groan and pressed against him.

She was his now--fully, legally. Her skin was his to taste. She could fist his hair and bring their mouths together. He was hers. They could have each other whenever they wanted.

Her lips smoothed across his; her tongue peeked out, tasting of the fresh Sacorrian water from the ship's tank, and he felt he could devour her whole just like this. His hips mimicked the back and forth of their kiss. His cock felt so heavy between his legs. And in response, she tried to slide up onto the countertop.

"No," he stopped her. "Don't. Turn around."

He barely gave her enough room to turn, and she rubbed against his whole front as she moved to obey his wishes. Once she was facing the mirror, which spanned the whole double-sinked counter, he caged her in with his arms and put his face in the locks of hair trailing over her shoulder. She smelled so good, so clean and warm.

He looked over her shoulder to see her biting her bottom lip as she watched his reflection. He straightened up, but kept his front against her back. His erection snugged right against the cleft of her ass, and she relaxed against it.

"Beautiful," he whispered and slid his hands up her hips, over her sides, to straps of her top. He hooked his fingers under the straps and steadily pulled them down to her upper arms. The compression top rolled down and struggled to slip over the slope her breasts.

He gave a sharp yank down. She gasped as her breasts popped out over the tight cotton. He stared at them in the mirror for a moment, remembering the feel of them in his hands, against his face, the way her nipples puckered. He needed to refresh his memory and practically brand the feel of her flesh in his hands.

He reached around her and cupped her gorgeous tits. He stroked her downy skin with gentle fingertips, teasing the hot crease where breast met ribs, and then grazed his thumbs over her peaked nipples. He wondered if his flesh hand felt different from the cybernetic, but he liked the way they looked against the round undersides of her breasts. He enjoyed the feel of the graceful undulations of her breathing.

She leaned back against him, arching upwards and putting her hands on his outer thighs. He squeezed her nipples between the thumbs and forefingers, rolling them just a little. She moaned and ground against him.

He rubbed back, moving counter to her. The inside of his briefs were softly rubbing at the underside of his cock. He could feel the wetness from his precome making the thick cotton stick to the tip of his dick.

"Oh, please," she begged as she tried to tilt her ass up.

"How's the implant?"

Breathlessly, she answered, "It's fine--doesn't hurt."

He nodded, bent sideways, and swept her up in his arms. She cried out his name in surprise, but laughed when she realized what he was doing and put her arms around his shoulders. He walked her through the short hallway and into the master cabin as she kissed his cheek.

She had made the bed and generally got the cabin feeling more like home while he had piloted the ship away from Carosi XII. He'd given Five-A orders to maintain their current course for Oba Diah, but not jump to lightspeed for a few hours. He wanted the stars just for them.

He lowered her down onto the bed with her feet on the floor. When he straightened up, she scooted in front of him and undid his belt. She dropped it to the floor and ran her hands up his covered torso.

"I want your cock," she murmured.

He dumbly nodded and said that it was hers as he unzipped his tunic. She spread the halves of the tunic wide and pushed his undershirt up to expose his stomach. She pulled him forward by his hips, kissed right above his bellybutton, and palmed his erection through his clothes.

His knees wobbled as he thrust into her hand--just her muffled touch was enough to weaken him.

She unbuttoned and then yanked the zipper of his trousers down. She crooked her fingers under all the fabric and eased it down to his upper thighs. His erection all-but flopped out to almost hit her cheek like some gangly appendage, and he wanted to apologize, but he moaned instead at the loss of constriction. She didn't seem to mind as she purred and adjusted her position. He could feel himself getting harder under her gaze, the room heating up, her searing touch smoothing over his hips.

He shrugged off the tunic and trailed his hands over her forearms when she leaned forward to lick the wetness dribbling down the length of his cock. It was almost a shock at how good it felt: the creamy texture of her tongue and the tease of her breath ghosting over his dick.

She steadied his cock with fingers wrapped around the base and took the head of it in. Her mouth was a furnace--burning him with muggy, hot suction. She tongued at the ridge as she twisted her head. Her plump lips wetly clasped around the girth of him. He could feel the hard roof of her mouth and the soft palate at the back.

He knew if he went farther, she'd gag and sputter. He didn't want her heaving around his cock, so he rocked back only to have her moan. He nudged forward, hitting the same place of her soft palate.

He asked, "This what you want? You want me to fuck your pretty mouth?"

She hummed out an affirmative and covered the base of his dick with her fist. He put a hand on her shoulder while the other covered her hand on his hip. When he began to roll his pelvis forward, she let out smothered groan and closed her eyes.

He tried to keep it slow and easy. He loved the way his cock was pumping into her mouth over and over, and how she looked when she concentrated on him. Her hand on his hip kept pulling him forward, urging him to thrust faster in spite of his intentions. He stilled his hips and controlled her head with a fist in her hair.

"No, sweetheart, no more." He shifted his erection in her mouth, teasing them both, to hear and feel her whine around it. "So good to me," he whispered.

In reply, she sucked harder at him and pushed her tongue against the underside of his dick. It made his eyes roll back in their sockets. It felt so perfect, so good, he knew he could lose himself entirely and spill down her throat.

He pulled her head back by her hair, and she let her mouth remain slightly open as she looked up at him. A little string of spittle connected her bottom lip with the head of his cock, and he could see beyond that to view the tops of her exposed tits. The whole picture made him want to shove himself in her hot mouth and until her nose pressed against his belly.

She must've sensed it because she flicked her tongue out to taste him one more time.

He growled, "Turn around on the bed, present your ass."

He backed away to give her room and to get off his boots and remaining clothes. His cock strained between his legs, smearing spit and precome across his stomach when he bent to get off his boots. When he was finished, he straightened up and gave his dick a few teasing pumps. Her leggings did little to hide her shape, and he admired the line of her inner thighs and the way the stretchy fabric clung between her legs.

He ran his free hand over one globe of her ass and gave it a grazing smack. It wasn't to hurt her because, stars knew, he never wanted to raise a hand to her--he just needed to see her flesh jiggle. She wiggled back with a soft groan as if to encourage him to do it again.

He didn't want to get distracted, though. He pulled her leggings and underwear down, and kissed the small of her back.

"Please don't make me wait," she implored over her shoulder.

"My sweet wife," he praised. He felt as though he could eat her up. With her clothes stretched between her knees, he nosed at the crease where leg met groin. He could smell her arousal and her heady musk.

She arched her back and pushed against his face. He spread the vulnerable slit between her legs to see her pussy all flushed and wet. Before tasting her, he asked if sucking his cock had gotten her so worked up.

She groaned out, "It always does. I love your cock." Her voice broke at the last consonant.

He dragged his tongue through the glistening folds of her cunt and up to her tight little asshole. He did it again and again, each time lingering on the petite bud of her clit. She ground back against his face, trying to get more.

"No more teasing, please," she gasped with her face turned to one side on the bed. "Please fuck me."

"How could I deny you."

He got a hold of the clothing between her knees and tugged at them, sending her forward. He tossed the offending fabric away, crawled over her prone body on the bed, and settled on his elbows and knees over her. With his dick nestled between her strong legs and right up against her sopping pussy, he rocked against her. He swept her hair to one side and kissed her neck.

In response, she wiggled under him, trying to catch the tip of his dick so he'd slide inside her. She made a small, distressed sound when she continued to fail. He shushed her and told her he had her.

"I want it so bad," she softly confessed.

"Me too," he agreed and reached between their bodies to angle his cock just right.

She tilted her hips up, and it felt like wild magic as he pushed inside in one long stroke. She was so tight and silky slick around him, and let his head fall forward with a groan. He could feel her quivering under him as though she were on the verge of orgasm.

He tucked himself right against her, kissing up her shoulder to her neck. He gave her earlobe a little suck. She mewled his name and covered his fists with her hands.

"Say you're mine," he demanded.

"I'm yours."

"Say you love me."

"I do," she gasped. "I love you. So much."

"Tell me to fuck you."

"Do it. _Take me._ I want it." Her hot, honeypot of a cunt clenched around him, and he didn't know if it was voluntary or not. "Use that big cock and make me come."

His stomach swooped at her words. They spurred him on, and he flexed his back, drawing out just enough before letting the full weight of his lower half drop. He did it again and again--setting a punishing pace. She cried out an ardent _yes_ and braced herself as he began fucking her in earnest. The clutch of her soaked pussy around his dick had him losing himself to it, and he didn't mind--he wanted to drown in her.

She buried her pretty face in the blanket, muting her growing moans. He wanted to hear her, though, so he got a hand under her jaw and tilted her head back. She tensed under him with a startled gasp and clawed at his other hand and the bed.

She warned she was going to come. "Don't stop," she begged.

He ignored the muscles burning in his back and torso as he hammered his dick inside her. She struggled under him for a few seconds, her breath ragged and her ass grinding back against him, until she let out a sharp cry. She shook against him, shrieking curses as her gorgeous cunt quivered and fluttered around his cock.

He cupped her jaw with a growl, keeping her head up against his shoulder as he went faster and faster. She rasped out a stunned, drawn-out _fuck_ , and he felt her pleasure continue to unravel. Her pussy was drenched and so hot around him as it seemed to milk him, and he squeezed his eyes shut as it started to be too much.

He couldn't catch his breath as every muscle and joint tightened up. The pleasure burned low in his groin. The rhythmic slap of their bodies coming together was a staccato beat to his low groans. He gritted his teeth and threw his head back as orgasm practically boiled out of him. He felt scalded from the inside out. All that was left was his singed heart beating out the syllables of her name.

He sagged on his elbows and buried his damp face in her fragrant hair. He wanted to tell her he loved her, but he couldn't form words between his harsh breathing. There were soothing fingers in his hair, and it made him want to weep.

When his erection started to flag, he pulled out to roll onto his back beside his wife. _His wife._ She softly groaned and pushed up onto her knees. He watched her teeter on shaky legs as she found his discarded underwear and gave herself a quick wipe between her legs. There was no small amount of pride knowing he'd made a mess of her.

He propped himself on an elbow and held out a hand to beckon her back to bed. She smiled at him before finally taking off her compression top and crawling over the expanse of the mattress. He laid back as she settled on her side against him and pillowed her head on his chest.

"Thank you," he murmured. For indulging him. For tolerating him. For marrying him.

She hummed in acknowledgement and put an arm around his middle. He could hear the grin in her voice as she said, "You're welcome."

He woke to the ship jumping to lightspeed. He didn't know when he'd fallen asleep, but now that he was awake, he could sense that his wife was as well. He ran his hand over her forearm which was still draped across him.

"Have you been up long?" he asked as he stroked his palm over the delicate, downy hairs on her arm.

"No." She adjusted her position against him and snuggled a little closer. "How much time do we have?"

"Not enough." He brought her fingers up to his lips and kissed the pads. "Sore?"

"A little."

He placed her hand on her chest. "Too rough."

She snorted. "No, it's just bound to happen with what you're packin'." She slithered on top of him, draping herself over half his frame. "I didn't stop you, did I?"

"No, you didn't," he agreed and glanced down at her soft lips. The mottled light from hyperspace painted her in shades of blue and gray. He wished he were a poet, some sort of wordsmith, to describe all he saw when he looked at her.

She smiled at him and echoed his previous praise: "My sweet husband." She moved forward and kissed him. As she sucked on his bottom lip, he felt the rush of pure lust shoot down his spine. He could feel his cock start to thicken as he reached down to tug her leg up over his waist.

He was about to pull her onto his lap when Five-A interrupted over the ship's intercom. Five-A chirped that they had a holocomm from Leia Organa and he'd been informed those comms were of the highest priority. He flopped back on the bed and let his limbs fall to the side, his erection completely forgotten. His wife briefly tucked her head against his neck and gave it a kiss.

"I'm going to clean up," she said and pulled away.

He groaned and pulled the covers over his lap as she crossed the cabin. He combed his hair back and accepted the comm. His mother's hologram flickered into view, and she didn't look pleased.

"Ben Organa Solo," Leia sternly began. He wondered what he'd done this time. "I went to bed knowing you were headed for Carosi-Twelve for a mechno-arm. Which is fine. However, I wake up to a notice of _marriage_. Do you really think this is the time for a wedding?"

"The new hand is great," he stated as he held up his right hand. "Just in case you were concerned."

"Glad to hear it. So you celebrated by marrying your girlfriend?"

"I've been wanting to make her my wife for a while now," he gritted out. "She finally agreed."

"Is she pregnant?"

The veiled accusation just proved how little Leia Organa knew him--or her. It went all over him, and he leaned forward, hitting his covered knee with a fist. "That is none of your business. Our marriage changes nothing."

"It can change everything."

"We're not like you and Dad--who barely waited after the war to settle down and start a little family."

"We fought for that. You have no idea what we did to give that to you."

"And look what happened!"

"It was good. For years, it was _good_."

He shook his head. "It was never good, _Mom_ , but you wouldn't've known that since you were so busy being important."

"It was to keep you safe."

"Yeah, I was _so_ safe with Snoke in my head almost from the beginning!" He nearly got out of bed before remembering he was completely naked. "This conversation is over. Nothing has changed, and my marriage is none of your concern." He studied his mother's pixelated holo-face to find her looking wounded. It didn't sit well, but he wasn't the one who insisted the past was perfect.

He concluded, "We love each other, and I'm going to do everything in my power to keep her happy."

Organa remained silent, so he added, "As far as the copy of Luke's holocron, we opened it. It's been _instructive_." He let out a breath. "We'll be scanning for another one within the week. If that's all..."

"That's all," his mother replied, sounding rather restrained.

"We'll be in touch," he ended the holocomm and then sagged against the pillow behind him.

That had gone badly, he judged as he stared up through the transparisteel bulkhead. His mother still thought him an impulsive kid who needed to be reined. Maybe he wasn't the smartest man in the galaxy, but he knew what he was doing when it came to his beloved.

Most of the time, at least.

He sat up and noticed the sex stain on the blanket. While he could summon the cleaning droid, taking the blanket down to the fabric sanitizer in the galley was quicker. He got up, threw the blanket over his shoulder, and walked it downstairs.

Five-A greeted him and then apologized for disturbing them. "I hope that was proper procedure, Master."

"Just Kylo. And yes, comms from Leia Organa are always a priority." He opened the sanitizer machine and stuffed the blanket in. "But you can't announce them when people besides my wife are on the ship.

"Noted." A pregnant pause later: "You now are very naked, Kylo."

"I had noticed," he assured Five-A as he chose options on the machine to clean the blanket.

"Is this your honeymoon?" Five-A beeped as he rolled into the galley. "Is Oba Diah romantic to humans? I do not have anything in my databanks which suggest it is a popular destination."

"The trip from Carosi to Oba Diah is as close to a honeymoon as we're getting."

"Very brief, then."

"Indeed." He started the machine and walked around the droid. "Keep us in hyperspace until we tell you." He retrieved the holocron from the lounge and took it with him.

"Yes, Kylo."

He went back upstairs to see his wife getting dressed. She stopped midway after looking over at him. She straightened up, socks disregarded, as she asked:

"What's wrong?"

"My mother knows we're married," he muttered as he tucked the holocron behind one of the cabinet doors next to the bed. "That's what her comm was all about."

She asked how, and he told her he had to assume Organa had some sort of galactic-wide alert set for him. He didn't know if it was to keep track of any potential bounty on his head or something more general. Obviously, the registration of official documents was part of it.

"She was displeased?" his wife intuited.

"Something like that." He didn't want to tell her that Organa thought them reckless idiots who would wind up pregnant.

He could tell she was stung by that. "Well, we can't take it back now, can we?" she pointed out as she approached him.

"Not that I want to."

She grinned--and it wasn't entirely happy--as she shook her head and smoothed her palms up his arms, over his shoulders, and into his hair. Her touch was a balm. He pulled her against him with hands on her hips, trying to give her something back. He bent his head to catch her lips, and she purred as she kissed him back. If their marriage continued on like this, he would consider himself in paradise. He didn't care what his mother thought.

He reluctantly pulled away, stealing a look at her wet lips, and said he had to get cleaned up. He was sure he had some lingering stress sweat from the cybernetic procedure. Also, he was certain he smelled of sex. That wasn't necessarily an issue, but if he had to meet the head of the Pyke Syndicate when they landed, he'd rather not be stinking of come while he did it.

He told her the blanket was in the sanitizer and should be ready soon before retreating to the refresher. He made quick work of it and when he came out, he found the cabin empty. He dressed quickly and pulled out the spare--now only--pair of leather gloves to slip on.

As he came down to the lounge, he saw his wife at the command terminal typing away. She paused and turned to tell him she was messaging Yideth. Before he could say anything, the sanitizer dinged it was finished. Five-A interjected that they were less than a parsec from Oba Diah.

"When she confirms, power down the hyperdrive. I'm sure the Pyke will comm shortly thereafter," he ordered and pulled the newly clean blanket from the machine.

He was smoothing the blanket over the fluffed bed pillows when the wash of hyperspace dissolved away from around the ship. He quickly finished and hurried down to the cockpit. He heard his wife's voice announcing she was Mistress Ren returning to Oba Diah with the Master of the Knights of Ren. The controller didn't hesitate to welcome her back, advised that Margsen Krim was eager to see them, and directed the ship to the main dock of the Pyke Palace.

When they landed, the dock they landed on was devoid of anything which would resemble a typical dock. There weren't even shipping crates. The mist was coming up from below the cantilevered platform to soften the edges and colors of an Oba Diah dusk. Time became an abstract concept in such insulating green-tinged murk.

Though he knew he didn't need it for warmth, he put on his cloak anyway. He wished for his helmet, wanting the anonymity it afforded him. He also wanted his lightsaber back, but it had been destroyed by that traitor. He'd replace it soon enough, and he mentally added getting a new kyber crystal to his growing to-do list. It seemed the longer he was away from the First Order, the more things he had to accomplish.

Not to mention what to do with Hux. That red hair and distinctive face would need to be covered if Hux was going to continue to travel with them and in general. He had to assume Hux had been abandoned by his Order compatriots. And the galaxy would be frothing at the mouth to get their collective hands on Armitage Hux.

He and his wife locked eyes when they felt people approaching the ship. He ordered Five-A to stay put and lock up the ship before leading the way down the ramp. The air outside the ship was clammy but fresh and smelled like wet stone. The mist seemed to dampen noise and any speeder soaring overhead passed by with hardly a drone.

Leading the group was a tall, well-dressed pyke in a long marigold-orange embroidered belted tunic with diaphanous robes the color of steel beneath. Covering their forehead was a carved-gold face plate. Next to the pyke was Yideth looking as composed and severe as usual. A quick read found her to be pleased to see them and ready to get on with the next part of their journey--whatever that may be.

There were two other high-ranking Syndicate members walking alongside Jeckhum and, someone whom he had to assume to be, Hux. Hux was wearing a hooded black vest over a double-breasted, long-sleeved tunic with black trousers and knee-high boots. The hood was up, and his face was concealed with a gray half-mask that reminded him of the medical mask he'd worn while escaping the _Finalizer_.

There was a fifth pyke bringing up the rear who seemed not to be guard nor high-ranking. He knew just be looking at the pyke she was Swisted Rig--the one his wife had chosen. Swisted carried herself like a warrior, and he had high expectations because of it. The group was flanked by armed pyke guards, and the guards seemed vigilant, but not aggressive. Which was a good thing, for he'd hate to sour a budding alliance.

His wife introduced Margsen Krim to him, and Krim in turn introduced him to the rest of the Pyke Syndicate triumvirate. Despite being spice dealers and slavers, they seemed friendly enough. Krim asked him to walk with him and discuss a few matters pertaining to their agreement.

"Do you pace when you think?" Krim asked in an offhanded way as they strolled down the dock towards the palace. "I happen to be a walker."

"I prefer solitude," he replied, not exactly knowing where Krim was going with the conversation. "I don't mind how I get it."

"That can be so difficult to come by: solitude. It is quite peaceful here, though, despite all the company."

"It seems that way--specially with such an impressive palace." He knew he walking into some sort of verbal ambush.

"It is funny you should mention the palace, Master Ren." Krim gestured towards the towering building in front of them. "I have proposition for you."

He feigned mild surprise. "Oh?"

"Swisted Rig is very precious to her aunt, Liere. And what is precious to my comrades is precious to me."

He had just been introduced to Liere--a member of the triumvirate. While pyke looked much alike to him, and he couldn't tell if they truly were related, he took Krim's words as the truth. They didn't taste of a lie.

He agreed, "Naturally."

"That being said, we would like to request Swisted not leave Oba Diah for extended periods of time."

"How does Swisted feel about this?"

"She is very young and very enthusiastic and lacks the wisdom to understand our concern."

"Am I to assume if the Knights of Ren agree to this proposition, Leader Krim, we will be given proper accommodations, training facilities, and meals?"

"You have my word."

Which, he knew, wasn't saying much considering the Syndicate's occupation. He hummed in mock thought since it was the best for everyone--at least in his opinion. He knew if he refused and left Swisted untrained, the Knights would be owing payment or a favor to the Pyke Syndicate.

Krim tacked on that he would be willing to include a modest fee.

He knew they'd probably receive this fee in spice, but spice was the universal, _conveniently_ non-traceable currency outside of the Core Worlds. That fact alone could come in handy. He thanked Krim for the offer and continued:

"I would like to discuss this with my second."

"Of course, I understand. There is no rush." Krim raised his hand in an indolent wave to beckon his people to move along. "I offer you accommodations in the palace for your stay."

"Thank you, once again--I'll take you up on the offer."

He followed Krim through the main doors as he was assured all his needs would be seen to. He was bid a good evening and then was handed off to an attendant who took him up to a suite high in the tower. The wall of green-tinged windows which took up one side of the lounge in the suite looked out over the multi-arm dock and the misty valley below it. From this high up, he could see the other dock platforms were occupied by crates and cargo ships. He had to assume that shipping and unloading happened throughout the entire day.

The rest of the carpeted lounge was as expected with a holoscreen and a long, curved gray sofa. There was a black oval dining table which seated eight comfortably in front of the window wall. The bedroom which was connected to the lounge was sleek. The bed was draped in a charcoal-toned quilted coverlet. The stitching was chartreuse green and undulated across the fabric like seagrass caught in the currents.

He glanced into the refresher to find it a bathroom with running water and a deep tub which could easily hold a tall pyke--or two grown adults. It was a detail he'd like to point out to his wife when he saw her next. Before he left the bedroom, he took off his cloak, tossing it over the foot of the bed.

He was about to activate the holoscreen in the lounge when the door chime sounded. He felt his wife out in the hallway and knew she had the rest of the Knights with her. No Swisted, though, he noted. That was probably for the best. He didn't want her in with Knight business yet.

He opened the door and stood to the side to let everyone in. They filed past with Hux--still with his hood up and mask on--being the last. Once the door closed, he watched as Hux pushed back the hood to reveal a shaved head. A shock of something like sadness colored his thoughts. While he'd never outright said it, or even gave it much consideration, he thought Hux's ginger hair was stunning.

Hux's mask came off next. However, with Hux facing away, he could only assume nothing permanent or debilitating had happened to those Imperially perfect features. Hux tucked the mask under the lapel of his tunic as he turned to reveal himself uninjured, but not looking like himself exactly. Everything was in the right place, in the right shape--even his eyes were the same blue--but it was off like Hux was holding his face differently.

It seemed as though Hux was about to say something when Jeckhum interrupted:

"I'm hungry. Anyone else need food?"

"You're always hungry," Yideth drily teased.

"Hey, it takes a lot of fuel to stay this gorgeous."

"Yes," his wife answered Jeckhum's question with a smile. "I could eat." She looked to him.

He nodded and agreed that food would be good. Jeckhum announced he'd comm for a meal. As Jeckhum headed for the comm pad next to the hallway door, he knocked his fist against his shoulder in a show of affection. He wondered if Jeckhum would feel any fondness for him once Jeckhum knew he was to blame for Kin Al's death.

Hux cleared his throat to draw attention to himself. "The First Order has fallen. Survivors are in custody and awaiting trial for war crimes."

"Anyone we need to worry about?" he asked.

"Not that I know of."

"Then they're on their own--just like we are."

Hux looked offended at that. "We can't let the United Galactic Systems take control."

"They will be as effective as the New Republic."

"But they have a Jedi on their side now," his wife pointed out.

With more information, because he understood exactly what the UGS was going to be, he made a quick decision. "Which is why we won't be sharing any holocrons with Rey. It's better we hobble their attack dog before she gets out of hand."

He predicted the UGS would want its own security force, like any ruling government. And who better to fill that role than Jedi? It would be like the Republic all over again with the Jedi Council of his grandfather's time. However, if he could keep Rey ignorant in the ways of the Force, he could curtail the reach of the UGS and keep the galaxy stable. Which in turn, would keep the lives of his Knights safe. It was a unique position he fully intended to take advantage of.

"Holocrons? _Jedi?_ What's going on?" Yideth demanded.

He explained the situation concerning the holocrons as quickly as he could, leaving out the details of his mother and her funding. He told them he wanted the holocrons to further their knowledge since Snoke had held things back or outright lied to him. Collecting the holocrons, he told them, was going to benefit them all.

Yideth sniffed. "We're Jedi hunters. You're the last Jedi killer, Master. I say we hunt this Rey down and destroy her."

"And who do you think they'll come for first when this Jedi is murdered?" Hux retorted.

"The Resistance knows you're alive, don't they?" Yideth asked him and his wife as her suspicion gnawed away at their reunion. "How did you two escape? Why were you gone so long?"

"Yes, that is a fancy ship you returned in," Jeckhum commented as he walked into the dining area and straddled one of the chairs.

His wife looked lost for a second before she schooled her features. She put her arms down at her sides just in case he had to Force-call one of her lightsabers to him. He didn't think that would be necessary, but he could feel how Yideth's and Jeckhum's loyalties had been shaken.

"A Force-dampening collar had been clamped around my neck, so I couldn't get out on my own. I was also injured," he tightly began. He told them that his beloved had liberated him from his confinement on D'Qar. It wasn't exactly a lie. "We traded the ship we acquired on D'Qar for the one we have now. We went to Carosi-Twelve for medical treatment. Then we came here. All that took time, and we came back as soon as we could. Is that explanation enough for you?" he challenged.

"What sort of injury?" Hux inquired after a tense moment.

He pulled at the fingers of the glove on his right hand. Once bare, he held up his mechno-arm. "I lost my hand. At the same time I lost my lightsaber."

_"Rey?"_ Yideth spat, her anger filling the room, while Jeckhum looked dismayed.

He nodded as he took off his other glove and tucked them under his belt with a shaky hand. His face was hot, and his heart was beating too fast. He wanted to order everyone from the room.

His wife approached and held out her hand to him. He took it in both of his and pressed a kiss to the back of it. She offered him a small smile, and he felt the tension start to flake away like dead skin. He was raw underneath, but whole.

Yideth growled from behind his wife, "All the more reason to put that bitch down."

He knew Yideth wanted to argue more, to state that this was the second time Rey had injured him. He held up a hand--his cybernetic right, he belatedly realized--to stop her.

He said, "We'll deal with Rey when we have to. In the meantime--"

"In the meantime, we have to agree on a plan," Hux stated.

Before Hux could continue, because he was sure Hux already had a plan in mind, the door chime rang a second time that evening. Hux put on his mask and answered the door. The pyke on the other side pushed in a meal cart with an earthenware tureen, bowls, small plates, cloth napkins, utensils, and a lined bread basket heaped with hot golden-brown rolls on top. On the lower shelf of the cart were cups and two pitchers of tea.

He thanked the server and saw them out, locking the door behind them. In that short span of time, Jeckhum had put the bread basket on the table and was stirring the contents of the tureen. Hux had unmasked himself once more and began distributing cups while Yideth and his wife sat down at the table.

It was obvious they meant for him to sit at the head of the table--like he was some patriarch or grand leader. He debated about just taking the chair across from his wife, but that wasn't close enough. The closest, he logically pointed out to himself, was at the end with her at his right.

He sat without ceremony and was given a cup of warm tea which smelled of spice and honey. A plate with a roll was next and then a full bowl of soup with a spoon to eat it. It was all strangely halcyonic.

He looked over the scene as Jeckhum and Hux sat down and tried not to spoil it with doubts. It was the first time he'd sat down with his Knights in too long. It felt like months. He raised his cup of tea, and everyone followed suit.

"To Baltek and Kin Al," he saluted.

"To Phasma," Hux added, and he agreed. She had been the best captain in the First Order.

They all murmured the names and drank their tea. It was comforting: the warmth of the cup in his hand, the spice, the sweetness on his tongue.

Before Jeckhum could tear into his roll, he stopped him as he put his cup down. "About Kin Al..."

He had to do this before they went further. If Jeckhum was already questioning his faith in the Knights of Ren, adding this fact wouldn't change much. Delaying the inevitable truth would only hurt more in the long run, too. It might be better rip the bandage off now, he thought. At least then they'd all know where they stood.

"You were there, I know," Jeckhum summed up as he put his piece of bread down.

Of course Jeckhum had figured out most of the story. He straightened up in his seat. "It was my fault. I didn't protect him."

"You can't protect everyone." There was something tightening Jeckhum's voice.

"I could've protected him," he countered. "And I didn't. He was shot because I didn't block the bolts."

The table was quiet, and no one touched their food.

"You can't block all the shots all the time."

"We were running for cover. I mean, I was dragging him--"

Jeckhum asked, "He was already injured?"

He nodded and took a steadying breath.

"Then the Resistance shot a wounded man. That's war," Jeckhum concluded.

"If you'd like restitution--" He knew that previous Knights had a tradition of taking responsibility of their comrades' death. If a Knight died on the watch of another, any other Knight could demand satisfaction through duel, asset acquisition, exile, or straight-up execution.

"And make us all feel worse? How would that help, Kylo? Who do you think would be entitled to restitution in the wake of that?" Jeckhum glanced at her and then shook his head. "Kin Al knew what he was getting into. He had been rolling the dice for years." He mimicked the tossing of dice. "Sometimes you get snake eyes."

He bowed his head and stared down into his steaming soup. It was getting cold, he realized. He had made everyone sit around with a cooling meal in front of them.

_What an asshole move._

"I don't want to talk about Kin Al," Jeckhum stated as he picked up his roll again and tore a corner off to dunk in the broth. That seemed to diffuse the growing tension, and everyone--besides him--picked up their spoon to begin eating. "I want to hear about what happened while you two were gone."

He looked up with a glance at his wife. "What do you mean?"

"There's something different between you two."

He could feel curious eyes on the both of them. She lifted a shoulder in deference to his judgement. The Knights were going to find out sooner or later, she seemed to say without a word. However, he wanted to protect his legal identity--and now hers. Also, he knew those kind of records weren't available to just anyone in the galaxy. And he knew Hux would be livid if he found out who Kylo Ren used to be.

"We got married on Carosi-Twelve," he said and finally picked up his soup spoon.

Jeckhum exclaimed, "I knew it!"

"The hell you did! You owe me!" Yideth crowed at Jeckhum with a laugh.

Hux offered a subdued _congratulations_ , but didn't say much for most of the meal as they caught up on the details of their time apart. He could feel the shaky ground upon which Hux thought he now tread. He and his wife would have to address that blow to Hux's confidence later. For now, he wanted to know what Hux thought the Knights should do in the meantime.

"Before we were interrupted with dinner, you said you wanted everyone to agree on a plan," he led the conversation back to Hux's previous words.

"Yes, Ren." Hux dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. "I think we have a golden opportunity starting with the Pyke Syndicate--"

"Is this that infiltrating-the-spice-network plan again?" Yideth cut Hux off.

"No, I scrapped that--you were right. No, this is better. It's on our terms. The Knights of Ren can be a real power in the galaxy if we start on the right foot."

"Which is better than the left, hm?" he teased.

Hux gave him a scrunchy, half-disappointed look before continuing: "We can offer the most powerful people a Knight of their own--for a fee, of course."

"So what? Everyone gets a Force-user as their bodyguard?" his wife asked.

"Not exactly. They can have a Knight, a Force-sensitive from their own ranks, but what they don't know--"

"Wait." He held up his free hand. "Are these rooms secure?"

"Only the rooms and alcoves near the throne are bugged," Yideth revealed. "Everything else is private."

"Continue," he urged with a nod.

Hux took a drink of tea, his earlier apprehension temporarily forgotten. "What they don't know is that the Knight is _ours_ first. We can condition them, like in the stormtrooper program, make them loyal to the Knights of Ren _first_."

"Are you going to try this with Swisted Rig?"

"With everyone's backing, I will. Yes, Swisted is a pyke. She's from the Pyke Syndicate. However, when we're done with her, she'll be Swisted _Ren_ forever."

"Which means?"

"We can ask her to pass along information she receives to us. We can eliminate enemies with the knowledge we gain through our network. We can protect ourselves--as a group. We will have a say in who lives and dies."

"What about the United Galactic Systems?" Jeckhum asked as he refilled his bowl.

"I'd like to see them try to stop royalty and _important_ business-people from protecting themselves. Money, and the power that comes with it, will always trump good intentions."

"And it starts with the Pyke Syndicate?" he asked.

"Yes, the Syndicate can show off their Knight. Word gets around, maybe an ally of theirs contacts us, maybe an enemy, and we begin working in the shadows."

Yideth inquired, "What if two Knights are forced to face one another?"

"We can make provisions to insure they all know of each other," Hux replied. "And they'll be checking in on a regular basis."

"Can we do it while planetside? Under the watchful eyes of Auntie Liere?" Jeckhum mentioned while getting another roll.

"She can't be present for every meditation session, now can she?"

It was more honest than the Jedi ever were. It could keep the UGS's security force in check. It might in the future give him the opportunity to kill Rey. All the more reason to secure more holocrons; they could be a mobile reserve of Force knowledge spanning back millennia.

It all hinged on if they could indoctrinate Swisted. It was a gamble. On the other hand, if it didn't work, they would only be repaying the Pyke Syndicate back for their hospitality.

He met his wife's eyes as the Knights continued to discuss details. She seemed open to the idea and perhaps was going down the same thought path as he had. She shrugged and gave him a nod of her approval.

"Do it," he ordered.


	31. What Came of the Things We Once Believed?; Oh, All Lost To the Depths of A Hungry Sea

"Hux, wait," his wife requested as the Knights were filing out of the suite after dinner.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Hux pause and turn to face her. "You need to get used to calling me Midra."

For a second, he'd forgotten what his wife had told him about Hux's situation: that Jeckhum had given him a pseudonym, that he had been accepted by the Pyke as a Knight, that no one outside of the Knights knew he wasn't Force-sensitive.

Yideth bid them a good-night as she walked out into the main hallway, and Jeckhum reminded him to be ready for training in the morning. He replied that he was looking forward to it. He felt the itch to hold a sword in his hands and to work his body until he couldn't get a form wrong. Jeckhum smiled in return, but it didn't quite reach his golden eyes.

He wanted to say something to assuage the pain, or at least transmogrify it into strength for both of them, because he could feel that pain as though someone had punched him in the heart. He wanted to acknowledge it, tell his Knight that he saw him and he would bear witness. Sometimes, he knew, that was enough.

Jeckhum surprised him by reaching out to put a hand on the center of his chest. "He's not gone. I feel him everywhere now."

"One with the Force."

Jeckhum nodded. "I'll show you tomorrow."

"Meditation," he agreed.

"Good night, Kylo," Jeckhum mellowly said and headed for Yideth who was waiting at the bank of elevators at the end of the corridor.

He let the door slide shut and turned to catch the end of Hux's side of a conversation.

"...left with no notice and no plan and _no backup_. You could've been captured, and there would've been nothing anyone could do because _you'd sent Yideth away_."

"I got results. I got Kylo back," she defended herself.

"By putting yourself at undue risk."

"I can handle myself."

"I'm not questioning your ability. I'm pointing out that acting rashly helps no one."

"Why don't you say you were worried," he interjected as he came over to where they were standing.

Hux turned on him, his blue eyes burning with emotion. "And _you_. Getting separated and taken down by some _junker_ from _Jakku!_ Rey could've taken your head." He pointed to her. "And where would that have left _your wife?!"_

He noted, "She hadn't been my wife then."

Hux growled in frustration. "If I had any hair, I'd be tearing it out because of you two..." He sputtered for a word and finally settled on: _"Morons."_

"Hey--" she began.

"No," Hux cut her off as he slashed the air with a hand. "This imprudence will not stand. We must be careful because it's only us now."

He reiterated, "Why don't you say you were worried about us?"

"You're damn right I was worried! She thought you were alive, but I don't have _the karking Force_ on my side to assure me of anyone's survival. Jeckhum and I woke to find her and Yideth gone, and when Yideth returned she had some half-assed message--which could've been faked--that you both were alive." Hux reached up as if to smooth back his hair only to remember at the last second it had been shaved off. "There was nothing for days as you two had your _little honeymoon_ ," he fumed.

"Need I remind you that you are not in charge," he snapped because he would not be lectured to as if he were in the wrong. "You do _not_ get to throw a hissy fit when you don't receive a nightly report."

Hux snarled at him before turning for the door. He could feel that Hux wanted to contend every damn detail. She rushed forward to get a hold of Hux's sleeve before he could even take two steps. Hux looked like he was going to yank his arm away from her out of contrariness, but thought better of it. She gripped Hux's forearm when he didn't while her other hand slipped over his clenched fist.

He wanted to tell her to let Hux go. If Hux wanted to play dictator, he could do it with another group--not the Knights.

"I'm sorry for running off without telling you, okay?" she offered. "I just wanted him back."

Hux bowed his head and muttered, "I wanted him back, too. I was coming up with different stratagems while in the medcenter, but you didn't wait around to hear any of them."

It was strange to hear Hux talk about him as if he were anything more than an annoyance. It made his chest flutter despite his exasperation. He reminded himself of those nights they'd all shared before the Resistance attack. They had been good nights full of mutual pleasure and understanding.

"I couldn't wait around. If I had, they would've all been gone." She pressed herself against Hux's arm. "They were leaving D'Qar the next day and taking Kylo with them."

Hux nodded in acceptance. "You did what you had to do."

She came around to face Hux. "I didn't mean to upset you." She sighed and then stated, "Action was necessary."

Hux replied that he understood, but there was still a moue painting his refined features. He felt that Hux still didn't like any of the facts, but knew it was pointless to argue about a situation which had resolved itself. He watched as she pressed her palm to Hux's anger-flushed cheek. Hux allowed it, even relaxed into it, until she got closer and raised herself up on the balls of her feet to kiss him. Hux reeled back and threw a glance over her shoulder at him.

"What're you doing?" Hux stammered in a way that to anyone else would've been normal speech as he floundered. For Hux, though, it was almost a nervous stutter.

"Trying to kiss you, of course."

"But you're--"

"Married," he finished Hux's sentence. "How does that change something between the three of us?"

"I thought..."

 _"Assumed,"_ he corrected as he came closer. "We were already bonded before you joined us. Making something legal doesn't change the fact we were already committed."

He recognized that it was a contradiction to depreciate their marriage's significance when he had been pushing for it since before Volik. He could hear his wife's mental snort at his half-truth. However, Hux couldn't hear her reaction and didn't know the inner workings of their relationship.

Hux looked into her eyes, his ambivalence obvious. "But things _have_ changed."

"Only if you want them to," she replied.

"Let him go. If he doesn't want to stay, I don't want to force him."

She glanced at him and let her hands drop from Hux altogether. "Don't you want us anymore?"

"Not tonight," Hux murmured and took her face between his hands to kiss her forehead. "Pretty girl."

She looked up at Hux, almost reaching out to put her hands at his lean waist, and whispered something he didn't catch. Hux shook his head and stroked his thumbs over her cheeks for a second. If she couldn't convince Hux to stay, there was no way he could.

He decided to give them a moment and walked to the door to open it a third time that evening. He leaned a shoulder against the doorframe and watched as Hux pulled the hood over his head as he made his reluctant way out.

"Hux, don't go," she pleaded. He could feel her upset from where he stood.

"It's Midra," Hux gently reminded her as he paused at the doorway.

Hux met his eyes, and the struggle was so obvious in him. There were so many conflicting, incongruous feelings inside Hux. It almost made him dizzy to try to parse them all out. And somehow, despite the rejection, he wanted to grab Hux by the back of the neck and kiss him.

He said instead: "I'm glad they couldn't kill you." _I'm glad you stayed._

"I couldn't leave," Hux murmured as he gave his lips a passing look and then got out his mask. "Not yet."

Hux left the suite after bidding them both a subdued _good night_ , and he closed the door behind him. Hux was too proud to set aside his anger. And Hux's anger was just a pretense for his fear of being left behind, of being disregarded, of dying--that much he knew. As a soldier, Hux knew death could be around the corner, but as a person who had been given a second chance at life, everything felt so friable--themselves most of all.

As if the fact alone wasn't enough reason to grasp at anything good for as long as possible. As if the three of them hadn't been given second-- _third, fourth_ \--chances at life. Hux should know better by now and if he didn't, it was better they stop.

He set his frustration with Hux aside and focused on his wife. She seemed tense as she gathered the dishes and stacked them on the meal cart. He wanted to tell her that Hux would come around. Or he wouldn't. Either way, they had each other.

He set aside their cups and poured them both more tea. She sighed as though he had voiced his thoughts. She could probably feel them since he was sure he was projecting them.

When she was finished, he offered her a cup. "Would you like to see my bathtub?" he asked as stony-faced as he could muster.

She laughed as she took the proffered cup. "Is it impressive, Lord Ren?"

He hummed and sipped at his tea to hide his smirk. "Very."

"Then yes, I think I would."

-

The morning brought negotiations which ended up not being as tedious as he feared. All the Knights were offered each a secure room of their own, on the same floor even, to which his wife relinquished her room to stay with him. Leader Krim hardly batted an eye at the request. Full meals, nutrition bars, and any sort of drink they desired would be available at any time.

The Knights could go on missions or even take jobs while training, but Swisted could be gone no more than three standard cycles. He knew that was a direct request from Liere. In turn, their ships would be fueled--at a steep discount--and maintained at their request and convenience. Even a stipend had been negotiated.

Concerning the training facilities on Oba Diah, they were promised a private gym to themselves along with any sort of equipment they required. It was mentioned that Yideth and Jeckhum had already requested practice swords, fitness dummies, and targets, but more would be provided if needed. A promise of the utmost secrecy from both sides of the metaphorical table while training Swisted was added on--which meant no questions from either side, no spying on each other, and no revealing what was going on to outsiders.

All the Pyke triumvirate wanted at the end of their mutual venture--which had been set for six standard months--was to have Swisted exclusively. The Knights could not call her away for a mission after the six-month training window. However, the Knights were encouraged to stay in contact with Swisted.

The success of it all was thanks to his wife and Hux. He thanked them both and was going to invite Hux to see the new ship while he and his wife got changed for training, but Hux stated he was going to his room and would meet them at the main doors in fifteen minutes. He let Hux go and looked to his wife.

"He's still not over it," she commented before turning away.

He wondered which "it" was the most important to Hux as he followed her to the catamaran. Last night, Hux seemed to have gotten over being uninformed about her leaving. That left their marriage or the close call they'd all experienced as the issue. Maybe it went deeper than that, but did he want to unpack Hux's issues?

He still hadn't answered that question when they returned to the Pyke Palace. Hux was waiting for them with the hood of his vest up, his mask on, and his lean arms bare. There was something restless about Hux, and he knew that his wife could feel it as well. Hux didn't say anything as he turned away and led them back through the palace. They shared a glance before following.

The gray stone hallway they were in transitioned into a metal walkway attached to the rock face on their left. The walkway was screened with an eight-foot tall guard of transparisteel on their right. The walkway dipped down against the bedrock while the roof-line remained level. Through the transparisteel, he saw a large open gym below with a set-up of multiple moving targets on the back wall.

There were a few pyke below reloading their blasters between rounds. From this high up, he couldn't hear if they were talking as they worked. The pyke paid the three of them no mind as they made their way down the walkway and disappeared behind the gym wall.

The Knights' gym was farther back and a decent size with two walls being gray stone and the other two being uniform duracrete block. The floors were a buffed charcoal composite material which had little give, and the lights far overhead flooded the space with unforgiving light.

Yideth, Jeckhum, and Swisted were already there in workout gear. Jeckhum was stretching and warming up while Yideth and Swisted were conversing over practice swords. The three of them turned when the doors closed with a snap. Yideth gave a short bow which Swisted noticed and quickly mimicked. Jeckhum barely stopped as he acknowledged their presence with a glance and a grin.

Hux issued a curt _good morning_ , marched over to the line of clothing hooks by the main door, and hung up his mask and hooded vest. Swisted threw a glance at Hux as she approached. His wife stepped forward to greet Swisted, saying that she was glad to see her.

"I'd like to finally introduce you to Kylo Ren, Master of the Knights of Ren." His wife turned to him. "Kylo, this is Swisted Rig. I chose her out of all the warriors Leader Krim presented. I feel the pull of the Force in her."

The introduction was for Swisted's benefit, but necessary all the same. He offered a hand to Swisted. "Welcome to the Knights of Ren."

Swisted took his hand. Her long, three-fingered hand dwarfed his, but she didn't use that feature to dominate. Instead, she was delicate, as though she could break him with too hard a squeeze.

"Thank you, Master Ky--"

He opened himself with a deep breath, feeling Swisted through the Force. She was physically trained and mentally disciplined. She had excelled amongst her peer group. She had a strong mind; not quick-witted, but still smart. She had a secret pride at being so good under that proper facade and didn't do well with failure. She felt too much too quickly and lashed out, saying things she didn't mean. It was one her biggest weaknesses. The Force trembled through her, adding weight to her occasional imbalance and caustic remarks.

"--lo."

She might never earn a kyber crystal, but she had something more than her brethren. His wife had done well with what had been offered. Swisted did indeed have sensitivity, and it could be honed into a sharp tool--for the Knights' usage.

Swisted was grasping at him now, her knees almost buckling under his scrutiny. His wife had an arm around Swisted's narrow waist. He supported Swisted's arm, and together they eased her down to the floor. He crouched next to her and placed his fingertips on her forehead before she could lean away. He palliated her not-pain and panic at her mind being shuffled through like an old book. It was discombobulating, and had always left him feeling bereft.

He didn't like doing things Snoke had done to him. However, he reasoned that he was the better master since he didn't leave Swisted on the ground to recover on her own.

Swisted blinked at him, her upturned pupil-less purple eyes wide and innocent and still full of fear. It confirmed his belief that she was intelligent, though very young. He couldn't tell her it would be all right or she could trust him. No one was guaranteed anything, he thought.

"Do you regret it now?" he asked.

Swisted bent her hexagonal, tear-shaped head and drew her arm from his loose hold. She seemed to curl in on herself though she didn't move.

His wife had her hand on the back of Swisted's shoulder, and she leaned in to murmur: "He had to see for himself, but I'm not wrong about you--and neither is Yideth."

Swisted looked to him, wanting his assessment and approval. He knew she wanted him to say she had not failed what she feared was her first test. "You would be a valuable Knight," he told her instead of allaying her distress. "You possess something that's uncommon in the galaxy. With us alone, you could achieve _distinction_."

He straightened up and offered his hand, giving her the choice to accept her destiny. "Will you join us?"

She nodded and took his hand. He pulled her to her feet and looked up into her hypnotic eyes. He could sense the fear in her, but also the determination to power through it.

"Let's get started, then."

He let go of Swisted and asked for multiple floor mats. They were going to meditate as a group, he announced. There was a brief quaver of confusion before everyone moved to clear space or retrieve mats. Except his wife, who stood and got close, putting her hands on his chest, to softly ask what they were doing.

"We're looking for our next holocron," he replied and covered her hands with his own. He thought about the damn mask Snoke had had him wear while in the oubliette. Perhaps he should've kept it instead of abandoning it at the Sith pyramid on Korriban because it had thrown him out of his own head. It had allowed him to float within the Force and see things without the hinderance of time. On the other hand, he mentally pointed out, it didn't promote unity within the Knights.

He stroked the smooth backs of her smaller hands before realizing something was missing. He hadn't asked about it before--hadn't even thought about it until now. She was about to pull away when he pressed her hands tight to his chest to keep her in place.

"Do you want a ring?" he asked.

She looked baffled for a second. "A ring?"

"Wedding ring."

"Do you want one?" she returned.

"I'd wear one if you wanted me to." He knew that wasn't a straight answer, but it was the truth. He recalled that his mother still wore hers and would probably do so until her death. Han had had one until it was ruined _somehow_ \--Han'd never shared the details of said accident when he'd been around. Somehow, his mother had accepted the excuse, and they'd never replaced it.

His wife hummed in thought and studied his inelegant hands. The corners of her beautiful mouth turned up before she met his gaze. "Let me think about it."

He wanted to say that he'd get her rings in whatever metal she wanted: platinum, songsteel, haysian smelt, the finest silver, even the humble yet stainless inoxium. The material didn't matter to him. If she wanted a jewels, he'd get them. He'd wear the ring with pride. Instead stupidly declaring any of that, he simply nodded in acquiescence and let her go.

She gave him a warm smile that made him feel as though his heart was flooded with emotion and she turned to help get the few floor mats already there situated. He wondered for a couple of paralyzing heartbeats if his chest would crack open and fill the gym with all he felt.

He shook himself out of it and looked around the gym to notice Hux was absent. He reached out with the Force to find Hux in the hallway, handing the last of the mats from a nearby supply closet to Jeckhum. He could feel that Hux had every intention of slinking away when Jeckhum's back was turned. He could also feel that Jeckhum knew it, too.

He strode out of the gym to hold the doors for Jeckhum. They shared a look as Jeckhum approached, and he quickly told Jeckhum what he wanted to accomplish with their meditation session. Jeckhum nodded and said he thought it a good idea.

"Keep them out of Rey's hands," Jeckhum commented and went into the gym.

He let the doors close on the gym when he noticed Hux had already disappeared. Hux wasn't far, though, and he sprinted after him. He caught up to him just around the corner. With Hux's hooded vest left behind, he could see the beginnings of copper-tinged fuzz on his scalp. He took hold of Hux's upper arm and pulled him to a stop.

"There's no reason to go," he said to Hux's back as he released his arm.

"I'll be outed if I stay."

"That's not how the Force works."

Hux snarled over his shoulder: "Then explain it."

He wasn't sure he could explain how the Force flowed. It was like trying to explain a rainbow to someone who'd never seen rain--in that it could be done, but both parties would be frustrated and maybe no better off by the end.

"Centeredness and energy are all that's required today," he stated.

"If that's all, then my presence won't be missed."

"You are part of this. You can't walk away now."

Hux whipped around, loaded with fury and ready to unleash a volley of rancor. "Yes, you've all seen to _that_ , haven't you?"

"We weren't the ones who chose to broadcast an execution to the galaxy," he hissed as he leaned in closer to Hux. "We didn't provoke Revolver and, in turn, the Resistance. I didn't get shot and dragged off my own ship. I didn't put your face on recruitment posters. This is your destiny, and I suggest you embrace it."

"Embrace _you_ , you mean. Embrace my lowly place amongst your lackeys."

"At least they have the Force."

Hux's blue eyes were hot with anger as he tensed up as if to swing a fist. Before that could happen, he immobilized Hux with the Force, pushing his tense arms to side, and got him against the cool stone wall. He got up close to Hux so neither of them would have to raise their voices.

Hux spat low curses and attempted to struggle, but couldn't even make his fists loosen. He was sure Hux would've kneed him in the groin if he could. He thought about pushing himself right against Hux and grinding their lower bodies together just as a reminder of what he could have if he wasn't so stubborn. There wasn't time for that, though, and Hux certainly wouldn't appreciate it under the circumstances. In any case, he had a goal, and Hux was being uncooperative.

 _"Fuck,"_ he commented. "What's your problem?"

"Release me, you ogre!"

He pushed Hux's chin up until his head was tilted back against the wall. It controlled Hux's mouth enough to keep him from yelling and drawing attention and kept his own hand free from being bitten. He racked his brain as to what the real problem was as Hux tried to shake off his hand.

"You're not my lackey. Do you hear me?" He turned Hux's head against the wall so he could see into one of Hux's crystalline-blue eyes. "You're important. I won't toss you away."

Hux gritted out, "Not until you're done with me."

"What if I'm never done with you? Ever thought _you'll_ be the one to leave?"

Hux didn't have a clever retort for that, _apparently_ , so he went on. "I need you here, you prick. I'm not asking you to perform feats of wonder. Just lie there like everyone else and fucking breathe." He let go of Hux's jaw and braced his hands on the wall. "Can you do that?"

Hux stared back at him, unflinching and fierce, as he righted his head. "I can do that."

"Will you?"

 _"Yes,"_ he bit out.

He released Hux from the Force hold, but kept him caged in with his arms. Hux put his hands on his chest, his fingertips digging into the muscles of his pecs for a second before pushing him away. He backed off and lowered his arms as Hux adjusted his shirt--which didn't need adjusting, in his opinion.

"After you, my lord," he encouraged with a raised arm towards the Knights' gym.

Hux huffed in almost annoyance, righted his shoulders, and marched back to the gym like a determined king. He followed behind to admire the curve of Hux's spine, the graceful slope of his torso, and the way his training pants draped over his pert ass. He was reminded of watching that ass flex as Hux fucked his beloved.

He was going to get Hux back in their bed. Maybe only for a night, but maybe for far longer--if they all played their cards right.

Hux opened the gym doors with his head held high as though he hadn't tried to run away minutes before. No one commented on their absence as they both got settled on the serried square of mats. Hux took his place in the seated circle of Knights between Jeckhum and Swisted, while he took the open spot on the other side of Swisted. Next to him was Yideth and beside her was his wife.

He walked Swisted through a group meditation, though he knew his wife and Hux were intently listening to his instruction. He informed her didn't expect her to achieve anything. Just like he'd told Hux out in the hallway, all she had to do was relax and breathe and open herself to the Force. He assured her they wouldn't hurt her and whatever she saw probably couldn't harm her.

He said they were only searching for holocrons--all the holocrons they could get. Swisted asked what holocrons were, and his wife replied they were databases created by Force-users. Swisted's eyes got bigger than they already were. He could sense she was inspirited by the mere concept of them and now seemed to have no fear or second thoughts.

He told everyone to lie down, heads towards the middle, and get comfortable. There was the typical shuffling and bumping of elbows that came with sharing limited space. He noted that Swisted opted for lying on her stomach and pillowing her head on her arms. She watched him get settled until she'd seen her fill and closed her eyes. He could feel his wife's amusement through their bond and he wanted to ask what was so funny.

'She's fascinated,' she thought at him. He knew that was simply another term for _crush_. Swisted would become disenchanted with him soon enough. 'I don't blame her,' she continued. 'Handsome, powerful guy invites her into his special club. You offered her your hand, no less. It's like the beginning of a holo-romance.'

'What do you know of holo-romances?' he sent back, hoping that would be the end of it.

'Other than I'm in one with you?'

He mentally snorted. 'We're better--we're real.'

He felt her hum like the silkiest of fur was trailing down his neck to the center of his chest. He could hear her think, 'My sweet husband.'

"If we're ready to begin..." Jeckhum lightheartedly chided.

Of course, Jeckhum could feel their energy as they thought at each other. He rolled his shoulders and cleared his throat. He ordered everyone to take a deep breath, let go of tension, and open themselves.

It didn't take long for them to sync up with breath and then heartbeat and finally with spirit. He could sense them all as bright points of life gathered together in the Force. He could feel their connections--all different, all delicate and treasured. _Even Hux._ There was the susurrus of life and death, of joy and suffering, of indifference and hunger inundating his consciousness. It was around them and inside each one of them. It thudded through them like a stream of pure existence.

With each breath, he silently asked them to become more than individuals. No one body could hold all they were. It was convergence which bordered on apotheosis. It was foreign and new and strange and welcomed and she was scared and he couldn't feel his body anymore. He smelled the soft plastic cover of the mats and the stone nearby and the bittersweet spice that seemed to permeate the very fog which blanketed the city before it rained.

He was weightless. _They_ were weightless. He held hands with the dozens of Knights who had died on his watch as Master, who were alive and needed him now. All of them advanced as a collective beyond where no gravity could hold them, no temperature could touch them, no mortal could sense them.

They asked themselves, "Where is the next holocron? And the next. And the next."

They answered themselves with planets and coordinates and names. It was a flood of information which couldn't be lost. There was anxiety because they couldn't hold it all. They told themselves to calm because they couldn't lose it now that they had it. It was something which couldn't be stolen nor could it fade. All they knew now was theirs from the beginning and it had been made for them and it all waited for them.

They opened their eyes and spilled back into their individual ego repositories like tarine in a porcelain teacup. He remembered he was Kylo Ren, Master of the Knights of Ren. He was newly married. He had a cybernetic right hand. He was on Oba Diah, but he had to go to:

"Korriban," they said in unison.


	32. I Can't Take This Deathly Glow

"I've never felt anything like that," Hux confessed as he followed them up the catamaran's ramp, and his wife drolly welcomed him to the Force with a wry smile. Hux had been asking questions since training had concluded for the day. Perhaps it should've been annoying--and maybe at an earlier time it would've been--but he indulged Hux. His wife had felt tickled to him the whole time.

They had answered Hux as much as they could: No, it doesn't always feel like that. And no, the Knights don't often converge like that. Actually, he couldn't think of a time where he'd ever experienced anything quite like it. For how few of the Knights there were alive now, it shouldn't be possible.

Yet, here they were with leads on holocrons to follow and a connection which, he suspected, hadn't been felt in decades.

He had sensed Kin Al and Baltek--Perril and Ginji. Jeckhum had been right, Kin Al could be felt _everywhere_ \--they all could. There had been Nashi and Azha, too. It was like an imperceptible support system-- _a family_ \--he never knew existed. He didn't know how he'd missed it for so long. He was supposed to be the Master of the Knights of Ren and he knew nothing.

For a bitter second, he wondered if Snoke had taken _that_ from him as well.

However, he couldn't let himself be preoccupied by thoughts of Snoke because he had Korriban to face again. He had to get ready and prepare everyone for the possibility he might not make it back. With that in mind, he had requested use of a hover-cart from a dock officer and a few bins to unload some supplies from the ship.

He had left the hover-cart at the end of the ramp and handed off one of the bins to Hux while he took the other two. His wife led the way up into the ship and greeted Five-A. The BB-unit came rolling out of its docking station in the command center to chirp a jovial _hello_.

Five-A wobbled with enthusiasm as it reported that no one had tampered with the ship while they had been away. It also announced they had a comm. It stopped short of disclosing the sender of said comm when it saw Hux at the top of the ramp. Five-A tilted its head and greeted Hux, introducing itself with its given designation.

Hux one-handedly took off his half-mask and looked down at the droid with a fond look. "Midra," he responded.

"You two, go on up," his wife instructed as she strolled to the pilot's seat. "I'll see to the comm."

As they were ascending the spiral staircase with the bins, Hux asked who could possibly be messaging them. He had to think quickly to reply that it could be from the ship's previous owner. Or Leader Krim. Or the medcenter where he'd gotten his hand. Hux accepted his answer readily enough and followed him to the second level.

Once there, he dropped the bins he had in the master cabin and took the third from Hux to let him look around. Hux pushed back his hood, rolled the mask, stuffed it into a pants pocket as he regarded the cabin for a moment, and then went to the control panel by the doorway.

Hux coolly observed, "This is a very nice ship."

He had to keep Hux from thinking about the quality of the ship and how they'd come to possess it. He didn't want them to keep up a lie for years. "There's a second cabin across the way."

Hux glanced at him--suspicion and curiosity waging in his gaze--before crossing the short corridor. He followed Hux to see him paused in the doorway. He couldn't tell Hux that it had probably been intended as his own cabin when Calrissian had tried to gift the ship to his parents.

"This could be your cabin," he pointed out as he came up behind Hux.

"This is the second-mate's."

"And...?"

Hux half-turned and looked over his shoulder. "Shouldn't Yideth have that honor seeing as she's your second?"

"Yideth has her own ship."

"Which is old."

"We can upgrade it later," he retorted.

As he took a step into the second-mate's cabin, Hux grumbled, "Should've had Snoke see to that."

"She didn't want Snoke involved with her ship."

"You know, for being at Snoke's beck and call like you all were, you didn't trust him."

"Did you?" he countered, though at one point in his life, he had trusted Snoke like an idiot.

"Touche."

Hux ran his fingertips over the satin-smooth surface of the built-in storage as he circumnavigated the room. It was almost an affectionate gesture. He trailed behind, not crowding Hux, and not blocking the doorway. Hux stopped at the foot of the bed and looked up through the transparisteel bulkhead to view the gray clouds mottling the hazy afternoon sky.

"It's going to rain again," Hux mentioned as he relaxed into parade rest, and he hummed in agreement. "Why do you let your wife do all the smoothing of ruffled feathers?"

"You mean _your_ ruffled feathers."

Hux kept his eyes heavenward. "She soothes you, too."

"Do you want me smoothing your ruffled feathers instead, _Armitage?"_ he softly asked as he came up behind Hux on his right. He could smell the clean, salt scent of sweat left over from training on his neck.

"You're the one who is usually ruffling them."

"You ruffle your own." He drew the back of a finger down Hux's firm tricep. It was nearly a shock when Hux didn't pull away or scold him.

"By simply observing your foolishness," Hux added in an easy way he'd never heard in reference to himself. Hux tilted his head in his direction. "Or seeing the aftermath thereof."

"I'm not the only one capable of foolish actions."

Hux faced him then, letting his arms settle at his sides. "I guess you're not."

He was about to direct Hux to see him in action in another context when his wife popped her head in with a friendly _hey_. She smiled at them both as she came in and asked Hux if he liked the cabin. Hux revealed that he did--very much so.

"It's yours, then," she replied.

"I don't have much to go in here."

"For now."

Hux echoed her statement in agreement, and that seemed to please her. She turned to him and asked if he'd started on packing their things. They had agreed earlier to keep the minimum of a change of clothes apiece onboard and unload rest of their meager belongings.

Beyond the topic of clothing, they had debated about where to keep the holocron. He wanted to give it to Five-A to hide inside the workings of the ship, but his wife had argued that the ship wasn't secure enough and could be stolen. His reply had been the holocron could attract unwanted attention or even Force-sensitive thieves when in the palace. They couldn't control who entered the building, he had pointed out. In the end, Hux had offered the idea that the Knights take turns guarding it. The holocron would be difficult to find if kept being randomly passed amongst the Knights.

In the meantime, Hux's idea would do because he did not want to take a Jedi holocron to Korriban. He guessed that Jedi artifacts wouldn't be _welcomed_ there. For all he knew, their holocron could be corrupted by the Sith energy of the planet. His thought might be farfetched, but he didn't want to take the chance. Also, in the likely event he didn't return, it wouldn't be lost.

"No packing yet," he answered. "But I want you to get all your things."

The blankness of dread washed over her features. "Why?" she demanded.

"Because you're not going with me."

"What, Ren, _no_ ," Hux protested.

"It's safer."

"For whom? Certainly not you."

"I'm not letting you face whatever is on Korriban alone," his wife insisted.

He looked between them for a moment before announcing, "I am in charge of this operation, and you two will obey my orders."

"Excuse me, I'm _your wife_ and bonded to you. I have a say in when you die, Kylo Ren. I'm with you until the end, whether you want me there or not."

"And I can't possibly let you two go alone," Hux added.

"Absolutely not. I forbid it." He stepped up to her, grateful for his height, and bit out, "Pack your things."

She looked up at him, anger and frustration and fear and love written all over her pretty face. "No."

Hux tried to reason the situation down a notch by pointing out: "You two will need backup. Perhaps someone who is not as Force-sensitive won't be as potentially influenced by whatever is there."

"That's not how the Force works," he reiterated without looking away from her. "And neither of you are going."

He heard Hux sigh and felt him working on another excuse to tag along.

She vowed, "I will never forgive you if you leave me behind. Even if you come back, I won't."

She was serious, and he knew it. He didn't want to be estranged from his wife, now or ever, but he didn't want to put her in danger. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if something happened to her. He didn't know why she couldn't see that.

"I won't let you go again," she softly declared.

"And both of you need someone to watch over you. You'll need a pilot just in case either of you are injured."

He felt his fists clench and the urge to rip something apart rise. Before he could do anything he'd regret, he stomped into the master cabin and kicked two of the bins out of his way. They hit the cabinets lining the lower half of the bulkhead with an abrasive clatter. Just as he was picking up the third, his wife and Hux entered the room.

"What are you doing?" she challenged.

"Packing up your fucking things since you obviously won't!"

"Don't touch my shit!" she yelled back.

"Can't you see I'm trying to _protect you!"_ he bellowed and threw the bin in his hands at the wardrobe.

"And _I'm_ trying to protect _you!"_ She took a step towards him. "We need to support each other."

"I am the more experienced one." He pointed at the deck, righteously punctuating each statement. "I am the master here. _I_ protect _you_ \--not the other way around."

"You need me," she argued as her arms went wide, and he knew deep down she was right. He hated to admit it, but she was _right_. "I won't allow you to deny yourself what you need." She came up to him, completely fearless, and put her hands on his sides in a tentative embrace. "Remember, you're mine."

"And I protect what's mine," he finished for her. Somehow, this felt like an old argument. He reached up to cup her soft cheeks as he minutely shook his head. "There's no winning this with you."

"But you're not the loser. Can't we all..." She let out a shaky breath. "Can't we all support each other? You'll _always_ be my husband, and I want to look after you." She motioned behind her with one hand. "Hux wants to back us. What's wrong with that?"

He looked up Hux. "You'll stay on the ship while we're there. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Hux replied, no hint of sarcasm in his tone.

That was how he found himself in the pilot's seat the next morning with his wife and Hux at his proverbial side. They had unloaded most of their clothing the evening before, hiding the holocron at the bottom of a bin. In the privacy of their palace suite, he'd consulted with the holocron about Korriban before giving it to Yideth for safekeeping.

The gatekeeper had reported that the planet was also known as Moraband and the homeworld of the Sith. It was a place where many injustices were meted out for the sake of power, according to the biased gatekeeper. He had asked it where a holocron would be if there were any left on the planet. The gatekeeper had reluctantly answered:

"The Valley of the Dark Lords."

He had ascertained that was where Snoke had taken him before, where the pyramid had been built into the rock at the break of the valley. He'd told the gatekeeper of the pyramid and received explanation the building had probably been a crypt-cum-academy. Considering the Sith philosophy, the gatekeeper had continued, it was unlikely a holocron would be there. If one wanted advanced knowledge, one had to pass the trial of a dark lord.

He'd asked, "How do I do that?"

"Face a dark lord, of course."

"But all of them are dead."

"Exactly," the gatekeeper had replied.

It had been an obtuse answer, but it made sense to him all the same. They had to venture into the tomb of a dark lord to retrieve their holocron. He had a feeling he couldn't earn a Sith holocron through a pop quiz.

It didn't take long to reach Korriban, and the barely populated, desert planet was the same. It was still empty with a red patina of aged glory which couldn't ever be worn away. It felt of heavy death and the silence that came from unshared secrets. There had been avarice which had never quite been satiated.

He had Five-A scan the planet to find the huge rip in the surface that was the Valley of the Dark Lords. His wife asked him if he were sure about going down there. It didn't matter if he was sure or not, he told her. Their next holocron was down there.

Five-A beeped that it had located the topographical feature he was searching for. He gave the controls over to Hux in the co-pilot's seat and reached out to feel for the holocron. He silently asked to be guided. Hux piloted them down through the thin atmosphere where the bright starlight changed to rust.

They swooped over the pyramid first, and he told Hux to slow. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, opening himself to the Force. He could feel his lovers near him, and he wanted to bask in them, but he couldn't get distracted. He pushed out farther only to feel hunger. The hunger wasn't for food or comfort or loved ones.

It was for the living Force. And power. Always power.

It wanted to devour, and everything was prey. It was pure predator: unfeeling, beyond language, hidden in the shadows, and _patient_. And close. He knew what he was feeling was the holocron. It seemed impossible--improbable. Yet it was there. He didn't understand how a holocron could have the twisted ravenousness he sensed.

Maybe he should be frightened of it, but he wasn't exactly. He had his misgivings about its usefulness, but he felt he had to seize it. Even so, he didn't know what the Knights were supposed to do with a holocron which at most wished to consume. He told himself to trust the Force and his Knights, and believe that all would be revealed.

"It's close," he murmured and then asked his wife if she could feel it.

"I don't understand it. It's not like the other one," she answered.

"What is it?" Hux asked for clarification. "What are you two feeling?"

"Starvation," she replied as he said, "Greed."

"And you need this thing?"

"Apparently," she grunted in agreement with Hux's skepticism.

He opened his eyes with a sigh. "I know it's seems stupid, but it's the one we need now. We don't have to do anything with it. We don't even have to open it." He looked out upon the rufous tabernacle of the Sith they were drifting through. All they had to find now was their holocron's particular pyx. "We only need to keep it out of Rey's hands."

"Like she's going to want it."

"Do you want to take that chance?"

His wife said no more, and he had to take it as concession. His Knights wanted him to retrieve this holocron, and it was for a reason. Even if that reason was to ultimately destroy it. He would do what was necessary to protect those he cared for and ensure the Jedi would never rise to power again.

With that resolve like an iron bar centered in his chest, he ordered quiet and reached out again to determine the locus of hunger. It came to him, like the thing was beckoning them, and he told Hux to pilot them a quarter klick ahead and land.

They settled next to a broken obelisk in front of a low, pillared ziggurat with hooded, carved figures supporting each level of the structure. They reminded him of the Sith figures he'd seen at the stupa where they'd killed Snoke. The very tip of the once-great obelisk was smashed beyond restoration, along with the rubble of some now-ruined stone structure or statue which skirted the front of the ziggurat. The air was heavier here, filled with dark energy. The academy pyramid was long behind them and hidden by the deep, curving fissure in the earth--like a wound upon the planet.

He stood to come around the pilot's seat. His wife was at the mouth of the command center, leaning a hip on the edge of the galley island with her arms crossed over her chest. He approached her and tugged at one of her forearms to draw her close. She hardly needed the encouragement as she almost launched herself against him, her arms going around his shoulders. He embraced her, pulling her off the deck, and buried his face against her neck.

"We'll get through this," he promised her, speaking into the shadowy space between them.

He felt fingers in his hair and lips against his ear. "I love you," she whispered.

He put her down and kissed her. He wanted the give of her flesh against his, the taste of her spit in his mouth, and the feel of her hands at the back of his neck, her fingers tunneled into his hair. It didn't feel like it would be for the last time. He knew it wouldn't be.

When he pulled back, he murmured, "I love you, too."

She smiled up at him and traced his bottom lip with her thumb. The moment passed, as they always did, and she pulled away to go to Hux. He watched as she hugged him and kissed his cheek. It seemed as though Hux was going to keep it that way, but as she stepped back, he yanked her against him and kissed her hard. Hux kissed her like he meant it, and she purred as her arms went back around him.

When they were finished, she had that little dazed look of a person who had been well kissed. He watched as she practically floated through the lounge and opened the ramp at the other side of the ship. Hux caught his eye as he shifted from one foot to the other. He could leave Hux like that: anxious and unsure. It wasn't very appealing anymore--to leave Hux off-balance.

He came up to Hux, and Hux backed away against the now-inert console. Hux held up his hands. "Ren, I didn't--"

Hux didn't make it any further as he grabbed the back of Hux's neck and brought their lips together. Reacting immediately, Hux fisted his tunic and pulled them tighter together as he kissed back. He tilted his head and pushed his tongue into Hux's mouth. The slick slide of Hux's hot tongue against his drove him a little crazy. Maybe it was the dark side impelling him, but he got two handfuls of Hux's ass and gave them a squeeze, his fingertips right in the heated seam between Hux's buttocks.

He broke away to whisper, "Be ready. We'll be back soon."

"You better be," Hux warned with stormy eyes and swollen lips.

He dragged himself away and stomped down the ramp. His wife was a few paces out and examining the Sith carvings on the fallen obelisk. The air was dry and hot--like a desiccated piece of rotting meat. She turned to the ziggurat as he came up along side her.

"It's in there," she stated. "Low, though. Like it was hidden there--not entombed."

He nodded and held out a hand to direct his focus. "Let's find an opening, then."

The tall ground level seemed to be without any means of entry. He could push through one of the walls with the Force, but he didn't trust the structure to survive such a blast. Going up the multi-level sets of stairs on the outside of the ziggurat to the gaping, shadowed portico on the middle level was a possibility, but that would mean having to face whoever--and whatever--had been formally interred inside. His gut told him venturing into the tomb like the Sith intended would be _unwise_.

While he had been debating all this, his wife had hiked to the other side of the main staircase. He observed her vaulting from one boulder in the rubble to the next, getting ever higher. She looked deep between the smaller caryatid supporting the stairs for a moment before climbing up another boulder.

He hustled around the edge of the rubble and asked if she'd found something. She balanced herself and turned to tell him she thought she saw a lower-level doorway half-blocked by debris. He advised her to feel out the holocron again before she got any farther.

Together, they felt the pulse of the holocron stronger than ever. As he followed her path up through the rubble, she reported it was in front of her, but yards and yards inside. She scrambled up the jagged rocks faster than he'd ever seen her move. When she got to the top, she turned to him with a smile. Her strength seemed to be amped by the dark energy of the planet instead of drained.

For a moment, he wondered what Skywalker would say to that.

He didn't want to keep her waiting, so he found somewhat level footing and concentrated on leaping up beside her. When he landed, she commented with a hint of amazement that she'd never seen him do that before. He smirked, pleased at impressing his wife, and told her he'd teach her.

He offered her a hand to help her down the peak of the rubble and onto the small portico under the main landing for the stairs. There was indeed a passageway which looked walled off to the casual observer. However, a closer inspection revealed a stone wall set back a few feet from the doorway.

He walked through the doorway and looked to either side to see nothing but inky blackness. He asked for one of her lightsabers to illuminate the interior. She handed him the fuchsia blade, and he held the lit saber aloft as he took a cautious step to the right. She got out Darksaber and ignited it.

It was cooler inside the ziggurat, but smelled of old decay, burnt golden resins, and the mineral smell of damp rock. There was something metallic to it all like solder and flesh-warmed silver. The lightsabers added a bit of hot plasma to the melange. Somehow, it was familiar like a perfume he'd caught once in passing.

The scent continued as they came to a corner and a set of stairs going down. The stairs were carved out of the ferruginous stone around them and the treads were perfectly flat as if hardly anyone had ever used them over the millennia. It was so quiet, it made him all too conscious of his own breathing and the grind of his boots against the dusty floor.

He couldn't stand there all day, paralyzed by his own awareness. He put his left hand on the wall to steady himself and made his way down the stairs. Behind him, he heard his wife follow, their footsteps in sync until he reached the bottom.

Within a few steps of entering the lower level, he was faced with stacks of gray, dusty bones fitted together like puzzle-pieces to line the walls. Most were human or humanoid, but there were some non-human skulls used as centerpieces and framed by long bones. As he looked around and realized that the bones weren't lining the wall, they made up the walls. The whole tomb was built upon a vast ossuary.

"Kylo," his wife whispered. "I don't think we should be down here."

He shook his head. "No, it's ahead." He could feel the holocron as if it were a living thing--the only living thing amongst all the dead.

They seemed to be in the main corridor--or a major corridor--of the ossuary. There were so many passageways branching off. They seemed endless, tracking into the black void. The silence was so encompassing that it made him think he had to relieve the nonexistent pressure in his ears.

In front of them was a wide solid door made of black stone. Compared to the dusty bones around it, it seemed downright glossy and reflected the pink glow from the lightsaber in his hand. The pale halo of Darksaber appeared as his wife stepped up beside him. There was a large crest etched in the middle of the door which looked like three uniform fangs coming together like a triangle over a circle. On either side of the crest were vertical lines of the ancient Sith language.

He didn't know if it was a maxim, an inscription, a prayer, or a warning. Perhaps all four.

His wife reached out and touched the center of the fangs. She commented the door was solid and thick--maybe too heavy for one person to lift or push aside. She continued by confirming what he already believed: the holocron was beyond the barrier.

He looked around the seam of the door for some way past it, some access point. When he didn't find one, he examined the bone-wall and debated about simply blasting through it. It couldn't be that simple, though, he guessed. He touched the knobby ends of the bones to feel the solid mass behind them. He thought the wall beyond might be thicker than the door. They could crack it open, but he wondered what that would do to the low ceiling above them. He maintained he wouldn't risk his wife's safety more than it already was when all they had to do was open a door.

She got his attention by touching the tip of Darksaber to the door. The saber seemed to be repelled by the rock, producing a crackled whine as it bounced off. She gave him a look as if to say "it was worth a shot." As she brought Darksaber away from the door, she looked down. He noticed a frown start to mar her forehead.

He followed her gaze to see a circular indent next to the door and about two feet off the floor. He inspected the other side to find an identical indent. He crouched down and held the saber away from his face to keep from being blinded by the brilliant light of it. The offset illumination revealed the relief to be the traditional Sith emblem of a fiery sun. It seemed big enough for a hand to span the flat disc of the sun.

It was obvious that he had to place a hand within the sun. However, the door was too wide to span with his arms. It was a job for two.

He looked up at his wife. With Darksaber on her other side, she seemed to have an aureole of white outlining her form. Her eyes shone like precious stones in the feeble light from the sabers. She was everything and, in that moment, eternal.

"Together," he said, and she nodded.

She knelt on the other side of the doorway and turned off Darksaber, placing it in front of her. He mirrored her and asked if she were ready before extinguishing his lightsaber. She let out a breath and told him she was. Their gazes locked, and he turned off his saber.

The darkness was impenetrable. Somehow, he could _feel_ where the Sith emblem was in the wall. He must've touched the disc of his sun the same time she did hers because they both flared red. From there, the red traveled from the discs to encircle the door and then faded into the wall.

As it went dark again, the echo of some mechanism rumbled through the ossuary. He closed his eyes to listen for anything being unleashed, but there was nothing. He couldn't feel anything beyond the pulsing hunger of the holocron beyond the door.

"Kylo," his wife whispered, her voice strained. "I can't move my hand."

He tried to pull away from the wall, but found that he too was fastened. He tried not to panic, but his heart kicked up regardless. He told her he couldn't move either.

"It's a tra-trap," she fretted.

"No, it's a test. Close your eyes and calm down." He settled back onto his calves. "Just breathe."

He could feel her thinking she didn't want to die in a Sith tomb. She didn't want to be one more skeleton in the already expansive collection they were in. While he didn't want that either, he knew his destiny was not perishing like a trapped rat--and neither was hers.

He leaned into his entrapment and pushed against the disc. It gave a little, and he looked in its direction as if he could see it. He told her what had happened and to drive it into the wall. With muscle and the Force, they shoved the discs in until they clicked.

He was elbow deep in the wall, but he still couldn't free his hand. There was no pain, but it was awkward as hell.

"Now what?" she groused.

"I don't know."

"What else is there to do?!"

_"I don't know."_

She cursed, and he heard her move around. He settled against the wall as best as he could and slowed his breathing. He had to think the situation out logically.

"What if we need to use the Force?" she offered.

"Like...?"

"Like concentrate on our suns. Put our energy into them to prove our, _I don't know_ , status?"

He thought it was worth a shot and agreed. He opened himself up and poured his power into the rock against his palm. It felt like giving light to a blackhole. It sucked it up, filling itself. However, he knew nothing physical was infinite. The stone he was attached to had an end. He pushed through, pushed more, pushed until he shook with the strain of it.

Across from him, his wife did the same. She cried out as she gave it everything until their discs rotated to throw them forward. He braced himself against the floor and asked if she were okay.

"I'm fine. I'm--"

He called her name, but she didn't answer. He reached out with his free hand to feel nothing. He patted the floor in front of him in search of the lightsaber, but it was gone. He swept his hand out farther just in case he'd knocked it away. He drew his other hand out to help with the search and then paused.

He was free.

He crawled forward as he told her what he'd discovered, but again she didn't reply. He thought he should've bumped into her by now. He said her name again only to be met with utter silence. He couldn't even hear her breathing.

He reached out to brace against the bone-wall to stand, but there was no wall and no bones. He was in the middle of a true nowhere. He asked himself if he was actually kneeling on a floor at all and had the disconcerting feeling of nothing below him. He touched nothing, yet didn't fall. He couldn't feel any direction, and his stomach lurched as he felt the illusion of spinning.

He knew he wasn't actually spinning and he swallowed back any nausea. He closed his eyes and attempted to orient himself. As if some benevolent deity had read his intention, a solid surface manifested under his feet. He straightened up and opened his eyes.

All around him were unfamiliar yet watchful stars. He seemed to be standing upon a great mirror which only reflected them. He was as a specter--invisible and insignificant. The slash of the horizon was a distant thing, like a whispered promise of an ending.

The air shimmered yards in front of him. He backed away and reached for his lightsaber to remember he didn't have one. Not his wife's. Not his own.

He stood his ground--however much he could claim--and watched as the shimmering air solidified. He shook his head as the silhouette became an anthropoid form he recognized. He knew that sandy brown hair and strong jaw. He had stared into those dark eyes throughout the years of his youth. He remembered asking him to come home only to be met with empty assurances.

"Hey, big guy," Han Solo in all his glory greeted him.

He took a step back and pointed at not-Han. "You're not real."

He looked over the very embodiment of a lie to see where he'd plunged his lightsaber through his father's chest. He waited for it show up, for the illusion to break to reveal Han burnt from Starkiller's hot, star-fueled core. Instead, it was Han as he remembered from before he'd left for training: with his hair just starting to gray and his bravado mellowing into something that could be mistaken for sincerity.

"As if you can tell what's real, kid," not-Han gently chided. "You followed a person who only meant to use you."

"That's not entirely true."

_"Oh?_ So he did right by you, did he?" Not-Han hooked his thumbs under his belt. "Taught you everything he knew? Didn't take things from you? Didn't make you despise those who loved you?"

"That was a lesson," he explained.

"One he didn't mean to teach, but yeah."

"And I killed him."

With a shrug, not-Han agreed, "Obviously."

"I'll be better than him."

"Better than me?" Not-Han cocked his head with a smug half-grin.

_"Yes!"_ he roared and stomped forward. "You were _weak_. You ran away. You didn't _commit_. You didn't--"

"Love you, yeah, I know what you think of me."

_"I'm not wrong!"_

"That's up for debate, son."

"I'm not your son!" He drew his arm back, his fist tight.

Not-Han didn't back away or even show the least bit of fear. "That's Snoke talking, and you know it. You'll always be my baby."

"But I killed you."

"Because you felt you had to."

"No, I didn't."

It had been his _choice_. He'd had to get stronger--that's what Snoke had said. He was weak and he had to carve out, kill off, that which held him back. Snoke had pointed out--like any teacher--what he needed to improve upon. It was his attachment which ruined him from fulfilling Darth Vader's legacy. He was supposed to make the galaxy better, and sometimes a sacrifice had to be made.

Then he'd found his beloved in the Jakku desert, and _everything_ changed. Snoke had become a threat.

"Yeah, you kinda did," not-Han contended his point. "And you wouldn't've made it here if you hadn't."

"I thought you didn't believe in destiny."

"Well, I didn't believe in the Force for almost half my life and see how that turned out."

Not-Han gave him a wry grin, and it felt like old times. They shared their mutual amusement for a second before not-Han began to shimmer and dissolve. He took a step forward, his hand reaching out to grasp at nothing. He asked, "Why did you come?"

"I told you I'd do anything for you. I meant it."

"And what _is_ the purpose of this?!" he demanded as he gestured around the star field.

The disembodied voice of not-Han echoed out one last thing: "Why don't you give it a think, kiddo."

He opened his eyes to Darksaber at his neck, the black blade droned too close to his ear. _He had been a fool._ He was straining forward against the hold the disc in the wall still had on him. _Snoke had always been a threat._ He looked up into his wife's eyes to see them blazing yellow. _He had been too stupid to see it._

"It's all your fault," she growled, her voice had weight and a malevolence he'd never heard before.

"It is," he agreed. If he hadn't already been on his knees, he would've fallen at her feet.

Her face crumbled into sorrow--unending, unfathomable sorrow. "You listened to Snoke when you didn't have to. You killed when you didn't need to."

"I did everything wrong."

She wept as her arm which held the saber shook. "No, not everything." She was straining against the hold on her just like he was. "I don't want to do this," she whispered.

He murmured her precious name. "Who's making you?"

"I have to do this. Don't you see? It's the only way. For Lor San Tekka, for all the people you _killed_ in Tuanul, for the younglings you _murdered_..."

"They were a drop in an ocean."

_"I know!"_ she screamed with tears running down her cheeks. "You were following orders!"

He could feel the aura of Darksaber. It was smooth and molten and smelled like electricity. If this was his death, it would be an honor to have her swing the killing stroke. "Have mercy and make it quick, sweetheart."

She hesitated for a second before wailing, _"I can't!"_ She threw Darksaber away, and it switched off before it hit the floor with a bouncing, metallic clank.

The ossuary went black as pitch again. He reached out in sheer relief to touch her, but found nothing.

"I won't do it!" she denied, and her voice rose in volume as she continued, "I won't be controlled! I don't care what you showed me!"

She seemed to fill the tomb with her unbreakable authority as if she were driving something out. The strength of her control over the power within the tomb made it her dominion. He could feel her influence, and his soul resonated like he was her kyber.

He knew what he had to do. He placed his free hand on the door and let go all notions of weakness, of Snoke's rationed-out lessons, of his own paltry repudiations. All that mattered was his own strength, the Knights' burgeoning power, and their combined victory. Through all this, their chains would be broken.

_The future was theirs._

The stone against his hand lurched backwards just as his captive arm was released. He blundered in the dark until he felt his wife's smaller hand against the floor. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him. She sobbed out apologies over and over as she hugged him, her curvy body tucked tight against his. He softly shushed her, cooing nothings in her ear, and held her.

"I almost killed you," she confessed.

"I know."

"I just got you back and _I almost killed you."_

"But you didn't." He loosened his hold, placing his hands on her hips. "Let's finish this."

She let out a shaky breath and pulled back, letting her fingers linger in his hair for a second. Stars, he wanted so badly to kiss her. Instead, he shuffled back and patted the floor to find her lightsaber. Once in his hand, he ignited it to see her wiping at her face, and her eyes back to their natural color. He reassured himself she was okay and then looked to the stone door to see it a foot inside the jamb.

He got to his feet and moved closer to the now-inset door. He pushed away his doubts to only focus on the challenge before him. He touched the center point of the crest on the door and walked the door inwards. There didn't need to be any resistance, he decided. It simply moved until he didn't need it to anymore.

The door slid back a few more feet until it cleared the thick rock wall and hit the back of a smaller chamber. Inside was a tall statue which was so different from the others he'd seen on Korriban, it threw him off. The statue was not a robed figure of mysterious intent. No, this statue was naked with its head thrown back in an undying scream. Its knees were bent in supplication as if it were being weakened by some unseen force. Above its hands was an open Sith holocron. The red and silver cornerstones of the green-lit, cuboid holocron floated around the main crystal housing.

He didn't know how it had been opened, but it would explain why he was feeling it. His wife came in behind him with Darksaber back in her hand to light her way. He turned off his borrowed lightsaber and hooked it on his belt. He went up to the statue and put his palm under the holocron to lift it from the figure.

The holocron felt as thought it were observing them. He felt scanned and assessed from the inside out by this supposed inanimate object. It felt alive, however, and almost breathing and very, _very_ aware.

He didn't know if it was in acceptance or dismissal, but the holocron sealed up after a moment and dropped into his hand in an anticlimactic end to their quest. The crystal inside dimmed, and the feeling of greed and craving diminished to the point of absence. He didn't realize how much it had been clouding his awareness until it was gone.

His wife broke the charged hush: "Let's get the hell out of here, _please."_


	33. Don't Let Me Down, Don't Make A Sound; Don't Throw It All Away

Hux met them at the top of the ramp with a medkit, all barely-concealed anxiety and concern. Five-A was waiting by the galley island, its photoreceptor scanning them. Both human and droid seemed to relax when they saw that neither he nor his wife were staggering from a critical injury.

"Did you get it?" Hux asked, his relief palpable, as he raised the ramp behind them.

He held out the powered-down holocron, the green crystal inside barely emitting any light. Hux examined the red-and-silver housing while his wife shuffled into the lounge and flopped down on the long, comfortable bench seat. Five-A rolled over to her and beeped its own relief at their safety.

Hux, ever the tactician, inquired, "Does it still feel like starvation and greed?"

"Not with it closed, no."

"How contradictory. I don't see the purpose of it feeling that way when its only supposed to be a database."

His wife raggedly insisted, "That thing is staying closed and going into storage. I don't care what the fuck it knows."

"Well, then," Hux said as he put the medkit on the counter. "Now that we have it, we can do what we want with it."

He grunted his agreement, walked the holocron to the low table in the lounge, and sat next to his wife. He slumped down to rest the back of his head on the narrow ledge between the back of the bench and the port windows. She sagged against him and rested her head on his shoulder.

He jolted awake when the autochef chirped the little tune to indicate it was finished cooking. His wife jerked away from him to sit up on the bench. He looked through the port windows to see space all around them instead of the iron-red cliffs of Korriban. Hux caught his attention by standing from the command center to pad into the galley.

"I had it make a ham, leek, and cheese souffle," Hux softly informed them, and apparently, he had brewed some caf to go with it--if his nose wasn't mistaken.

As he took off his gloves to rub at his gritty eyes, he asked how long they had been asleep. Hux turned from the autochef with a shrug and told them about an hour. Beside him, his wife cursed and cracked her neck.

Hux got out metal plates and utensils. He offered caf and powdered, sweetened creamer for it, both of which he said he'd discovered in the conservator. With a sigh, she got up to stretch and make her way into the galley to fix a cup of caf for herself. He trailed behind her and switched places with her in front of the built-in brewer once she was finished. All the while, Hux concentrated on spooning out perfect portions of delicate souffle for each of them.

Their meal was a quiet one once they had settled at the island bar. Hux remained standing, leaning his ass on the counter with his plate held up mid-chest. He told them they were headed back to Oba Diah.

"I programmed the hyperdrive to engage in eight hours," Hux added. "I didn't know how much time you two wanted to recover."

His wife smirked as she moved her empty plate away. "Is _recovery_ all you had in mind?"

"I may have thought of privacy."

"If that's the case, I want to wash Korriban off me." His wife stood, finished the last of her caf, and took her dirty dishes to the sink. Before she went upstairs, she thanked Hux for the meal and gave him a little kiss on the cheek.

Hux straightened up from where he'd bent for her kiss, looking pleased with himself, and announced he'd clean up the galley. He also thanked Hux and pushed his dishes across the island for easy access.

"You are joining us," he half-asked/half-ordered.

Hux lazily gestured with his mostly-empty caf mug. "That was the plan."

"Good," he stated before going up the stairs.

He walked in on his wife undressing in the master cabin. Her tunics were folded over the foot of the bed, and she was getting off her boots in front of the open wardrobe. She greeted him without looking up and stowed her shoes.

"Who commed yesterday?" he asked, though he could guess since Five-A hesitated when it saw Hux.

"Your mother. I started a draft, but, _eh_... I don't know what to say."

"Was she unpleasant?"

She snorted with a grin. "No. She was civil," she said as she took off her socks and tossed them on the floor in front of the wardrobe. "You'll see."

He nodded and sat down next to her clothes on the bed. "I'll reply to her later."

"See that you do. We don't need her hounding us across the galaxy because you forgot to write her back." Her tone was teasing, but she didn't know how right she was. He knew his mother. Leia Organa would absolutely track him-- _them_ \--down to get what she wanted.

His wife finished undressing, leaving her clothing in a pile on the floor, and headed for the refresher. He watched her round ass sway as she walked and hummed to himself. He sat there for a moment, looking at her clothes on their floor and enjoying the simple fact that he was _married_ to someone who would do it. He was sure it would annoy him in the future, but right now he didn't care.

He stood and undid his belt as he walked to the wardrobe. He unhooked her lightsaber from it and placed it next to Darksaber in one of the cubbies inside. He coiled his belt, shoved it in the next one down before storing his boots and closing the cabinet. After finding the laundry chute hidden behind the next cabinet door over, he stripped to his briefs and gathered all their clothes to push them down the narrow funnel.

As he shut the cabinet, he heard the stairwell portal out in the passageway between the two cabins swish closed. Hux appeared in the doorway a few seconds later. He watched as Hux examined him and he almost offered to do a little turn so he could see it all.

Hux took a step closer as he cleared his throat. "Your new hand looks quite compatible. The cybernesthetist did a fine job."

He held out his new right hand. "Would you like to examine it for yourself?"

Hux came closer, his hands twitching at his sides. "Is the synth-skin removable?"

"It's bonded to my skin, but I suppose if the mechanics needed repair, it could be taken off."

Hux finally came into his personal space and turned to the side to study his mechno-arm at a better angle. His cooler hands were gentle as he smoothed over the synthetic skin. Hux turned over his hand to look at the back of it and commented on how smooth it felt. He found the seam between synthetic and biotic and ran fingers over the join.

The subtle difference in input made him shiver, though it wasn't unpleasant. Hux met his eyes, an apology dying on his lips. They stood there for a second, and he admired the shifting blue of Hux's eyes and the fullness of his rosy lips, before Hux pivoted and kissed him.

He closed his eyes and brought his mechno-hand up to cup Hux's cheek as he kissed him back. He felt those slim, cool hands rest on his chest and glide down to frame his pecs. Hux gave him a squeeze, and he couldn't help but chuckle into their kiss.

He pulled back an inch or so to ask in jest: "Do you like my chest?"

"It's a part I'm fond of, yes."

 _"Oh?_ What else are you fond of?"

Hux lightly thumbed at his nipples, teasing them and sending a lurch of pleasure up his spine with each stroke. Hux opened his mouth to reply, but quickly closed it as their nude lover padded back into the cabin.

She sat down at the foot of the bed near them as she told them not to stop on her account. She leaned back on her hands and crossed her legs. Her nipples peaked in the cooler air, and he wanted to swirl his tongue around them. Instead, he looked to Hux to see him as focused on her as he was.

"Entertain her while I sonic," he suggested and gave Hux a little nudge towards her with a hand at the small of his back.

"I can do that," Hux said as he ambled over to her.

He didn't wait to see what they decided to do first. He knew if he stayed, he'd wind up jerking it in the corner while he watched them. He felt the first beat of heady pleasure course through her while he was in the sonic. His dick was at half-mast just imagining what Hux was doing with her.

He got through the rest of his refresher time as quickly as possible, hardly caring if he got as close a shave as usual. He was clean and deodorized, his hair was free of tangles--it was good enough. He practically stumbled out into the passageway in his haste to get back to them.

The sight he walked in on had his cock filling out and hanging heavy between his legs. Hux had hardly moved her from her place on the bed before getting on his knees between her legs. Hux had his arms circling under and around her upper thighs to hold her still as he worked that talented tongue in her hot cunt.

She keened and arched as she pulled at the back of Hux's buzzed head. Her strained voice had him moving to the bed and knee-walking over the mattress. She must've felt the movement of the bed as he shifted because she opened her eyes and stared up at him through a haze of passion. Her eyes dropped to his erection, and she licked her lips as she reached for him, beckoning him closer.

He couldn't deny his own lust or her wanton summons. As if in a fever, they moved together: she got up on her elbows, and he got a hand on his dripping cock as he moved closer to her gorgeous face. She opened her sweet mouth, and the second her tongue touched his cock, he put a hand at the back of her head and pushed inside. He cursed, and even to his own ears, it sounded like grateful praise.

He pulled back to let her tongue at the head of his dick before thrusting halfway back in. She whined around it as Hux did something good, and he reached over to fondle one of her breasts as he pumped his cock in her hot mouth. She arched up with a low rumble, her thighs quivering in Hux's grasp.

He watched as Hux glanced up her body and swirled his tongue over her clit. Hux closed his eyes again and latched onto her, his cheeks hollowing out a little. Her reaction was almost immediate: her whole body seemed to tighten up as her mouth went slack. He drew out and bent over her to suck at her plump bottom lip.

She panted against his mouth until her face showed shock and she cried out. He felt the rush of her orgasm and heard the squelch of Hux's fingers in her soaked pussy. She trembled and keened and let the weight of her head rest in his hand. He looked down at Hux to see his lower face drenched in her. Hux moved in to kiss her juicy cunt again, tease his tongue over her clit.

Her whole body spasmed, and she fell back to the bed with a moan and twisted against the blanket. "Fuck me," she whimpered. _"Please!"_

Hux looked up at him as he used both hands to stroke the heated juncture where her inner thigh met groin. Hux sucked at his wet bottom lip and audibly swallowed. "Husband's choice," he offered.

He shared a heated look with Hux before bending over to kiss his wife. She latched onto him, sucking at his tongue while pushing her fingers into his hair. He slid down the bed to lay next to her. His spit-slick cock rested on her hip and he shifted against her, lazily thrusting. Her mouth tasted like him, and her lips were soft and swollen from Hux and him.

He ran his hand down the middle of her torso. He could feel the rise and fall of her breath like the flow of an ocean tide. He came to the crest of her lower belly and let his hand span from her bellybutton to her mound. He realized all of her was his to love and caress and taste until his dying day.

He dipped his fingers lower to touch her soaked pubic hair and beyond to her wet slit. She moaned against his mouth as he anointed his fingers. He propped himself up on an elbow and brought his wet fingers to his mouth to taste her. Her come was tangy and a little salty--heady and clean and so unmistakably _her_.

While he had lost himself to kissing his wife, Hux had taken it upon himself to fully undress. Hux stood by one of her bent knees and watched them as he slowly teased the head of his hardening, flushed dick. For all the venom Hux could spew, he was colored like sweets with his golden-syrup hair, sugar-pale skin, and pink candy-floss blushes.

He gave his wife one last kiss before sitting up and leaning over her knee to lick away the briny precome oozing from the tip of Hux's cock. Above him, Hux gasped, and his fist stilled. He gave one more slow swipe and kiss before getting to his knees.

"I'm definitely fond of your mouth, too," Hux confessed.

He grinned and brought Hux closer with a hand on the back of his neck. "Maybe later I'll show you what my mouth can do."

"I look forward to--"

He cut Hux off with a kiss. Hux's lips and tongue tasted like her. He sucked her flavor off Hux's bottom lip and kissed down his chin to nibble at his sharp jaw. Hux softened in his hold, letting him move him whichever way he wished.

He whispered in Hux's ear: "Trade me places."

With a silent nod, Hux shuffled back and got onto the bed while he took his place between his wife's thighs. She looked up at him with a grin as she grabbed the back of one of her knees. He took hold of her other leg to spread her open. Her pussy was so wet and ripe for fucking. He steadied his cock and pushed it right against her folds. He could feel the delicate bud of her clit slide along the underside of his erection.

She writhed against the bed and tried to catch the head of his dick. She reached for him with her free hand, her fingers closing over his fist. She stroked down his fist until she reached his cock. Her light touch had his balls drawing up.

"Give it to me," she demanded, and he couldn't find it in himself to deny her.

He angled his dick and pushed inside her hot cunt in one slow, unrelenting thrust. She was so perfect around him. Her pussy was throbbing, and he had to brace himself against the bed to keep from collapsing on top of her.

Below him, she moaned and let her legs fall open. That little movement had his dick going deeper and his pelvis pressing right against hers. He rocked against her, grinding them together. She cursed and shifted with him as her palms smoothed up his sides.

Next to them, Hux made a little noise. He looked over to see Hux on spread knees, lazily tugging at his cock with one hand while the other was playing with his ass. Hux's eyes were glued to where his body met hers. It made him acutely aware of everything he touched from the fine fabric of the blanket under his knees to her silken skin and quivering cunt.

He couldn't wait any longer. He hooked her knees over his elbows and leaned forward. She cried out as he moved that little bit and grabbed onto his shoulders. From there, he set a hard, rolling pace. He thrust deep over and over into her dripping cunt, fucking her how he liked.

She dug her fingers into his shoulders, pulling at the muscle, as she squirmed and tried to move with him. It spurred him on and had him growling as he moved faster inside her. She moaned out his name as if pleading for mercy. He dug his knees into the mattress and ignored the way his hair was sticking to his sweaty face. He could feel her begin to tense under him and around his pistoning dick.

"That's it," he encouraged her over the wet slaps of his thrusts. "Come on, baby, come for us."

She whimpered out a little _uh-huh_. She clutched at the back of his neck and curled forward. He knew he couldn't stop--it didn't matter if it felt like his head was going to explode with so much built-up pleasure.

He felt her climax like a blaster shot, and it seemed to steal her voice. She clawed at him with her beautiful eyes clenched and her mouth open with raw ecstasy. Her cunt pulsed around his dick as if trying to milk the orgasm straight out of him. She was wetter and hotter than before, and he almost lost himself in her.

However, he didn't want to be done with them just yet. He gave one last pump of his hips before easing out of her. She breathlessly groaned and pulled him in for a kiss, tucking his hair back behind his ears. He let her legs go and couldn't stop himself from sagging against her. He supported his weight on his elbows and kissed her as though he could find answers between their lips.

_My sweet wife._

She purred in response and hugged him with arms and legs. His aching erection was sandwiched between, and he was so tempted to rut against her or push back inside her luscious pussy until he came in great waves of fucking bliss. Instead, he pried himself away and up, giving her heaving sternum a kiss before sitting back.

"Your turn," he told Hux while he stroked the fine skin of his wife's inner thighs.

Hux hummed in acknowledgement and stayed where he was. He took that at face value and crawled up to the head of the bed to sit. When Hux bent over her, he thought he was going to watch them kiss, so he gripped his dripping cock to give it a squeeze. They did that, and it was _good_ , but Hux whispered something to her. She glanced up at him and then nodded to Hux.

Hux got on all fours and crept up the bed towards him while she rolled over. He watched them both, hand uselessly holding his dick like a chump. Hux crawled between his spread legs and sat back on his calves. He noticed Hux's cock was half-hard, but still so flushed.

"I want to ride you," Hux announced. "She'd like to watch."

"You're not prepared," he pointed out, though his gut clenched at the thought of it.

Hux turned, braced a hand against the bed, and grabbed one cheek of his ass to present his hole. The rosy furl of his asshole was shiny with lube and relaxed. Over his shoulder, Hux explained, "You said to be ready."

That hadn't been what he'd meant, but he wasn't going to take it back now. It would explain why Hux hadn't wanted to sit down during breakfast. He'd been anticipating getting fucked for hours now.

He sat up and caressed the other cheek of Hux's ass. Hux pushed back in his touch, and he dragged his thumb up the crease. He looked to his wife to see her sitting with her legs curled to the side and studying them. Hux shivered as he circled the soft rim with his thumb. He wanted to ask if this was what she really wanted, but she gave him coy smile before he did. He came to the quick conclusion that if he liked watching her have sex with Hux, she could like it with him.

"Scoot back to me," he ordered and guided Hux with hands on his narrow hips.

Hux inched back, threw a leg over one of his, and arched his spine. Hux's cock tickled against his thigh and left a smear of wetness. He had imagined fucking Hux, of making a jizz-covered wreck of his co-commander, but it had never been like this. His fantasies had always been full of frustration and barely-checked wrath. It had always been to shut Hux up and make some-- _albeit probably stupid_ \--point. It had been violent and addictive in the worst way. He had never indulged the impulse because it would've been a weakness. He'd told himself that by abstaining he was stronger and better than Hux in every way.

When he slid a finger into Hux, it was to find him hot and slick and unexpectedly vulnerable. Hux gasped and pushed back to get more. In reply, he stroked the small of Hux's back and eased in another finger.

"The, _uh_..." Hux seemed to lose his thought as he pushed in deep. "The lube's behind you," he disclosed.

In the small break he took to turn and grab the tube from the top of the deep, built-in headboard, his wife made her way to Hux to kiss him. She murmured between kisses how good her husband's hands felt. Hux agreed, saying how thick and strong they were. He'd never thought much about his hands, but apparently, his lovers had.

He popped open the cap and poured a dollop of lube onto his fingers half-buried in Hux. When he worked them back in, he twisted his hand and curled his fingers down in search of Hux's prostate. It took him a few tries to get deep enough, but once he found it, Hux sobbed out a _yes, there_.

He smiled to himself and worked his fingers inside Hux's hot, little hole; rubbing and pressing on his prostate while Hux whined for it and rested his forehead on her bare shoulder. He looked up at her to see her leaning her cheek against Hux's head and petting him like a benevolent angel. Her eyes were on him, though, and they were smoldering. The look alone made his gut tighten and his cock pulse. He was so aware of the thin rivulet of milky precome oozing down his balls.

He wanted to fuck them so bad. He wanted to come deep inside them. He wanted to _ruin_ them.

Hux's body started tensing and getting warmer around his fingers, pink suffusing the alabaster skin of his shoulders, and his pale ass flexed against his palm. He stroked Hux's taint with his thumb, and Hux let out a stunned moan and slumped against her. She cradled Hux's blushing face in her hallowed hands and kissed him and rubbed her nose against his.

"I think you're ready," she crooned and sat back.

Hux nodded and looked over his shoulder. Maybe he wanted to see an entreaty in Hux's eyes, but what he saw instead was a front of defiance. Hux was daring him to continue, to want him, to _push that big cock in his ass_ \--as if the only way to get what they all wanted was by Hux bluffing his way into it. He decided to meet that challenge and slowly break Hux's affectations.

He smeared whatever lube was left on his cock and then added a little more. He gripped Hux's hip with his dry hand and held his dick with the other as he maneuvered them together. Hux let himself be directed and shuffled back until his slippery hole kissed the tip of his dick.

From there, he edged Hux down onto his cock an inch at a time as he let go of his erection. Hux let his head fall forward with a groan and held himself midway down. Hux was tight and _so hot_ , and his ass flexed around his dick. It made him break out in a sweat all over again. Just keeping himself from pulling Hux down the rest of the way was a struggle.

Hux breathed out, _"Fuck."_

"It's good, isn't it?" his wife asked.

"Yes, I..." Hux wetly gasped as he minutely rolled his hips, and he clenched every muscle to keep from coming. "Is it always like this?"

She looked over at him with a grin, her bottom lip between her teeth. "Always."

His brain fizzed with moonstruck static from all he was feeling. He knew it was good, but he certainly couldn't articulate it. She must've felt him because she came around to the head of the bed and leaned against his side to kiss him. Her hands trailed all over his neck and chest, caressing him and loving him, as she teased his tongue with hers.

He heard Hux huff out another curse and felt his body relax. It seemed Hux lost patience because he dropped his ass down with a sharp moan. He groaned against his wife's precious lips as his dick was fully sheathed by Hux's hot body.

She pulled back to look down his torso. He followed her gaze to admire the lean globes of Hux's ass, the appealing arch of his lower back, and how he took his cock. He dug his fingers into the meat of Hux's ass, spreading him, and then grabbed his hips.

His wife turned his head by the chin and gave him another kiss. "Show me what you can do," she requested and backed away.

He could do that, and he nodded with an _okay_. He ran his hands up Hux's sides and pulled him back to lean on his chest. Hux softly groaned as he spread his knees and got his feet flat on the bed. It felt a little awkward until Hux tilted a little to one side and hooked an arm behind his neck to hold on.

Hux buried his nose in his damp hair and kissed his temple. He closed his eyes and rolled his hips up just to get that little bit of relief. It was like a chain reaction had been set off. Hux replied by rolling his pelvis. He answered by grabbing Hux's narrow hips and bringing them tightly together. Hux purred and reached between his legs to fondle his half-hard cock.

 _"Fuck_ , you're so thick," Hux murmured as he lifted his hips.

He pulled Hux back down with a growl and began bouncing him on his cock. He tried to get every inch of his dick inside. He felt a frenzy taking him over, and all he wanted was to come deep inside his former co-commander. Hux seemed to be of the same mind as he moved with him, riding him faster and harder. The strident smacks of their bodies coming together complemented Hux's ragged breathing in his ear.

The mattress shook a little more, and he looked over to see his wife straddle the same leg Hux had. She was between Hux's spread thighs and watching the way they came together. He could feel the steamy heat coming from between her legs. He could sense she liked them together and that she couldn't help herself. She wanted to come with them.

He nodded, wanting her to use him in any way she wanted, and told her to ride his thigh. She spread her knees, sunk down, and leaned forward, her slit pressing wet and perfect against his overheated skin. She braced herself against the bed and her upper arms pressed her tits together.

Hux groaned, _"Oh fuck."_

She bent forward to lick a stripe up Hux's fingers and dick. Hux's breath stuttered out as his body suddenly clenched like a molten vice. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed away his impending orgasm as he steadied Hux, his rhythm faltering completely.

Hux was trembling against him, the hand on his shoulder shaking. "Don't stop," Hux pleaded, and he wondered which of them Hux was talking to.

He gathered himself, finding the previous tempo--the one that had been so _right_ \--and looked down Hux's torso to fucking gape. His wife was sucking at the head of Hux's now-red dick, letting it thrust in her mouth as he controlled Hux. Against his thigh, she was rocking in sync with him. Her ass was jiggling as her hips galloped with his pace; the friction was making them both sweat.

"Fuck us," Hux hissed. "Make us come."

She moaned in agreement. He dragged up that last bit of strength from within and gave them all he could. He fucked them hard and pushed himself to the limit. Everything was on fire, and he was burning up, and it was a height he never thought possible. He was beyond words, though he wanted to bite out every nasty thing he could.

Instead, he gritted his teeth and buried his cock in Hux as deep as it would go-- _again and again_.

Hux went limp against him as a pained sound was seemingly ripped from him. The report of Hux's orgasm triggered theirs. A wave of heat and euphoria collided together in a mess of pleasure so all-consuming, he was surprised he wasn't drowning from it. He didn't even know if he was breathing. He didn't think he cared to find out.

He then felt petite hands soothing him, fingertips smoothing over his cheekbones, and he opened his eyes. His wife was pressed against Hux's front, sandwiching the redhead between them. Her eyes were deep pools to drown in, and he knew it would be an easeful death to have his lungs flooded with her.

She leaned forward to kiss him, her eyes closing in surrender. He wanted to sob at how perfect it was even as his nose bumped into hers, and she huffed out her delight. Her lips were tender and puffy against his, and her tongue tasted of Hux's come--all sharp and salty and savage.

-

He didn't know how long it had been since they had lain down. Next to him, his wife was asleep with Hux curled up behind her. He dared not touch her soft cheek, though he wanted to. It was better in the hush to let them both sleep.

The ship was still cruising through normal space, and the stars beyond the transparisteel bulkhead were silent sentries. He took a deep breath and gingerly sat up. The thin sheet dropped to his lap as he finger-combed his hair away from his face.

He gave his lovers one last look before slipping out of bed, replacing the sheet, and padding to the wardrobe to get a pair of briefs. He made a quick stop in the refresher to relieve his bladder and get his underwear on. He caught his reflection in the mirror before heading down to the main level and smiled--he was striped in pink scratches and peppered in fresh love bites.

Five-A was in its dock, but booped a greeting when it saw him in the galley. He acknowledged Five-A with a soft _hi_ as he got out a cup. He filled it with water and guzzled it all before refilling.

He debated about going back upstairs, but he had a comm from his mother to reply to. He relaxed in the pilot's seat and checked on the ship's status first. They were three hours out from the hyperdrive kicking on. It seemed like plenty of time to have his lovers one more time before they landed on Oba Diah--that is, if he didn't waste too much time with a response.

He pulled up Organa's message to find it pithy and entirely her.

> When I last spoke to you, I failed to offer my congratulations on your marriage. Perhaps you think I don't approve of the match, but you couldn't be more wrong. I know you love her very much, and she you, and what you two share is special. I felt that when we were on D'Qar.
> 
> As I'm sure you're aware of by now, I'm representing the Alderaan sector in the United Galactic Systems. I want you both to visit me in my offices on Coruscant in the federal sector. (They're redesigning the old senate building.) Maybe better would be my home on the Alderaan space station. I can guarantee privacy, security, and discretion there. Either one is fine, and I leave the decision up to you, but I would like to get to know my new daughter-in-law.

He could hear his mother's eye-roll with the aside about the senate building. She'd probably bitch about it until it was finished, then quietly-- _grudgingly_ \--admit the change was a good one after she settled in. Threepio, if the droid was still around, would naturally chime in about the dust from construction contaminating his servos or whatever.

He wondered if he was so predictable. Or would that happen as he got older?

He opened the reply his wife had started to see she hadn't gotten very far.

> Thank you for the well wishes. I'm glad

He remembered her buried hurt with learning her new mother-in-law hadn't been thrilled about their marriage. From what he could glean from his mother's latest comm, she had been more offended by the timing. It hadn't even occurred to him to wait. The singular thought had been pledging himself to his beloved and hearing her accept him as her husband. He hadn't thought it to be anyone else's business.

Perhaps he had been wrong. However, it didn't matter now. The ceremony--the least important thing, really--was behind them. They had the future.

He began his reply, using his wife's opening:

> Thank you for the well wishes. She is a good partner for me. She's smart, capable, and balanced in unexpected ways. In time you'll see that.

He knew it sounded defensive, but he didn't like how his mother thought he would've only married because he'd knocked up his lover. His apprentice, his beloved, his _bride_ , wouldn't have stood beside him for only that reason, either. In his opinion, a child did not equal a relationship nor was it a good enough excuse to tie two people together--especially if they were ill-suited. Which wasn't the case at all with them. She had agreed of her own free will, with no strings--or baby--attached.

It was unnecessary to broach the subject in the current comm, he thought. He continued:

> I think meeting at your home would be for the best in light of potential talks of war crimes. I don't know when we'll be free to visit, but I assure you it will be soon. We'll be touch.

When they had some privacy, he would talk with his wife about visiting the Alderaan space station. He didn't think Organa would betray them--especially if he told his mother about the vision with Han Solo. He didn't know if it had really been him. Maybe he had just been talking to himself because he didn't think his father would've been so kind. Not after what he'd done.

He still had to share what he'd seen in the Sith ossuary with his wife. He still wanted to know what had pushed _her_ to the edge. He knew--and had known then--that her love for him is what had saved him.

He focused back on the message and struggled for more to say to his mother, but he couldn't give away his plans. He couldn't tell her about Korriban or his surviving Knights. And he certainly couldn't tell her that Grand Admiral Armitage Hux had survived the fall of the First Order and was currently sleeping next to his wife.

He ended his response with:

> Your son,  
>  Ren

He didn't know if that was right, though. His mother missed Ben, but he wasn't Ben and couldn't lie about it. He was Kylo Ren to everyone around him, but she would never accept it.

He deleted the closing and signature. She knew who and what he was. He didn't have to explain.

He read over the reply one more time before sending it. He commed Yideth while he was there to tell her the Korriban expedition had been a success, to expect them in a few hours, and that the next mission would be to Pillio. He told her he'd want her on that one, and they would work out the logistics when he returned.

After he sent _that_ comm, he sank back into the pilot's chair and adjusted the time for the hyperdrive activation to an hour later. No one on Oba Diah would be the wiser, and he doubted an hour either way would make much difference. After all, he reasoned, they needed their _rest_.

From the top of the stairs, he heard Hux call his name while in the background his wife laughed about something. He grinned to himself and left the cockpit area. He had a little more time with his lovers and he didn't want to waste it.

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter Titles: A Perfect Circle - Counting Bodies Like Sheep To the Rhythm of the War Drums | A Perfect Circle - 3 Libras | Muse - Undisclosed Desires | TV On the Radio - Staring At the Sun | IAMX - Mercy | Lana Del Rey - Gods & Monsters | IAMX - Wildest Wind | SOHN - Lessons | Depeche Mode - Pleasure, Little Treasure | The Black Keys - Keep Me | Joy Division - I Remember Nothing | Rihanna - Desperado | Tool - Schism | Portishead - Western Eyes | Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - Do You Love Me? | Jack White - Love Is Blindness | Bedouin Soundclash - Brutal Hearts | The Prodigy - Climbatize | Sisters of Mercy - Never Land | A Place to Bury Strangers - Now It's Over | X Ambassadors - Renegades | Savages - You're My Chocolate | Foals - A Knife In the Ocean | The Soft Moon - Desertion | Klaxons - It's Not Over Yet
> 
> [I've made a Spotify playlist from the chapter titles from the series for your listening enjoyment!](https://open.spotify.com/user/kiribana/playlist/7pOWP1FbCXZ7IcsnNpAD9e)
> 
> [Guess who has a tumblr/website?! It me!](http://mirandamcqueen.tumblr.com/post/152105033533/precious-pet-series-by-waywardrose-listen-you)


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